


The Cat's Smile and the Girl's Tears

by thekuroiookami



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Alice in Wonderland Fusion, Attempt at Humor, Dark, F/M, Friendship, Host Clubs, Investigations, Multi, Murder Mystery, Reader-Insert, Romance, Serial Killers, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-12
Updated: 2017-07-23
Packaged: 2018-10-31 02:21:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 31,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10889670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thekuroiookami/pseuds/thekuroiookami
Summary: As a homicide detective, you take your job seriously. But what does the mysterious new club have to do with a serial killer on the loose? And how will you manage your attraction to the stranger with messy hair and a sly grin?One thing is for sure: in Wonderland, nothing is as it seems...





	1. Down the rabbit-hole

Other people tended to be afraid of the dark, or at least wary of it, but you liked it. It was warm in its own way, a comforting blanket of not-light, and it kept strangers from approaching you for needless chatter. That’s why you chose a dimmer spot at the end of the counter, sipping whiskey and watching the kinds of customers that came to the bar. The muted lighting and dark wood panelling made it difficult for others to see you, which was how you liked it. The bartender seemed to sense your need for solitude and silently slid another drink your way when the ice clinked against the bottom.

Your eyes slid to your right when a man seated himself on the stool next to you. He was dressed in one of the costumes that this place was known for. Fitted trousers, a long coat that should have been fanciful, but instead draped his form with mystery, and white gloves over strong fingers. Your gaze travelled to his face, which was shaded by a top hat. His voice was sinuously seductive when he spoke.

“Long day?”

You raised your eyebrow at the abrupt leap into a conversation, but responded anyway. “The longest.” You turned back to your drink, tilting the tumbler to examine the way the light played off the golden liquid. “Are you one of the staff here?”

The edge of a smile pulled at his shadowy face. “In a manner of speaking. What went wrong?”

You gave a bitter laugh. “What didn’t? The killer is still out there somewhere, another girl has gone missing, and my fiancé just decided he doesn’t want anything to do with me. He says I’m obsessed with my work.” And now you had laid your secrets out for a stranger to see, but it was that kind of day.

He seemed to consider your words, head inclining to the side. “Are you? Obsessed with your work?”

“Maybe.” You ran a finger around the edge of the glass. “But cops like me are the only reason he’s still safe. Would you prefer it if I left my job half-done?”

“No.” The mysterious man’s answer shouldn’t have meant so much to you, but it did. A weight lifted off your shoulders as he continued. “I would not leave any work half-finished, much less an investigation that could change lives.”

You settled back against the wall, thinking the conversation was over, but the stranger reached into his pocket and set down an object on the table. You eyed the beautifully engraved key. “What is it?”

“The beginning, if you choose it.” He sat back and steepled his gloved fingers. “Have you ever thought about the name of our establishment?”

“Wonderland?” You shrugged. “I assumed someone was just desperate for a theme, so they went with the Alice books.”

You couldn’t be sure, but he seemed amused. “It is more than just a theme…we are a house of dreams. Desires.”

“I have no idea where you’re going with this.”

“This bar” – he gestured to the room – “is merely the surface. The rabbit hole runs much deeper. And so do our services.”

You just stayed silent, tension subtly stiffening your spine. This sounded dangerous, and possibly illegal. He noticed.

“Ah, don’t worry, we do not engage in any activities that may break the law. We merely provide our guests with a safe haven to retreat from the world, forget their worries. Everything we do here is consensual and safe.”

“And as always, it ends with sex. I’m sorry, but I’m not interested.” You were done with this conversation.

“We provide whatever it is our guests need. That might be physical, but not always. As for yourself…” The aura of darkness around him seemed to intensify as he leaned forward. “Are you certain you are not interested?”

His chocolaty voice sank tendrils of suggestion into your skin. You shook it off, narrowing your eyes at him. “I said **no.** ”

He laughed, a youthful sound that caught you by surprise. “Merely a suggestion. However…” He trailed a finger over the key suggestively. “If I told you that this key could open a door to the killer you seek, would you accept then?”

You straightened up to look at him. “What do you mean? ”

He put a finger to his lips. “I cannot speak about this here. Will you take the key or not?”

You looked down at the metal winking in the light. “What happens if I do?”

His words carried a hint of a smile, smoky with promise. “The person you were yesterday will not be the same as the one you become today.”

You stared at him for a moment, gaze hard. Weighed the risks and benefits. You just wanted to go home, call it day and potentially save yourself from what looked like a grisly fate. The man waited, patience written into every line of his relaxed posture. A picture floated up from the back of your mind. A girl in a distinctive blue frock, her face pale with death. Five others like her. Countless grieving faces you couldn’t answer.

Your hand clenched around the key. “Fine, but if this is a trap, I will gun you down where you stand.”

The stranger rose and extended a hand. “I would expect nothing less.”

You didn’t take his hand, but followed him out of the door and into the hallway. “What should I call you?”

“Here, I am known as the White Rabbit.” He stopped in front of a gilded elevator and held his arm out. “After you.”

You scoffed at his absurd stage name and stepped inside. He seemed unperturbed, face still shaded by the hat. As the elevator began moving downwards, you could feel your stomach dip. You were falling, falling and you suspected there was no coming back. The unease spurred you into questioning.

“You knew I was a detective before you approached me, didn’t you? Do all your customers receive the same level of scrutiny?” His bait had been precisely aimed. You may have fallen for it, but you had noticed.

You could feel the weight of his invisible gaze on you. “I could ask you the same thing, detective. You were not here at the bar on a whim.”

You didn’t reply. The connection between the mysterious club and the murders were too obvious to ignore. There was no point denying that you had come hunting for a lead.

The elevator came to a halt, and the doors slid open. You blinked as the glitter of a chandelier briefly blinded you. The White Rabbit touched the brim of his hat with a slight bow. “Welcome to Wonderland, my lady.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic was originally going to be a collection of drabbles, but it suddenly turned into this. Stay with me as I plan this out, guys.


	2. A mad tea party

You suspected the Wonderland club had its fair share of secrets, but it looked like you had barely scratched the surface. The club was much larger than it seemed on the outside. The White Rabbit led you into a circular hallway, corridors branching out from the central atrium like sunflower petals. The décor was quietly elegant, with pale, gold-veined marble and tasteful wood scrolling. You noticed that each branch ended in a door, six rooms with doors of varying shades.

The mysterious Rabbit paused in front of an ivory door. You looked at him questioningly when he turned. “I must warn you, our residents are a little…eccentric. They are also very private. We do not normally go by our real names here. I will ask them to reveal their identities to you, but they may not be as forth-coming with every detail. I hope you understand.”

It wasn’t as if you hadn’t interrogated less-than-cooperative suspects before. You nodded in acknowledgement. “I can’t really be throwing stones in a glass house, seeing how I followed a complete stranger into what may be a death-trap.”

Again, that chimerical smile that told you nothing about him. He turned the knob and waited for you to proceed inside. You did, noting that the clack of your boots had softened as the floor changed to a carpeted surface. “Well,” you said with a raised eyebrow, “this is an exercise in whimsy.”

A light laugh from the shadowed stranger. “We aim to please.”

You wondered, not for the first time that evening, whether you were dreaming. The door had been a portal to another world, one with crystal teacups, decadent desserts and waterfalls of lace. You took in the long table, set with glass teapot-shaped decanters, and the vaguely gothic air imposed on Victorian sensibilities. Gentle violin strings hummed in the background, lulling the viewer into complacence, drawing them to the various armchairs scattered around the room.  Silken couches beckoned suggestively, while roses trailed their heady scent from the walls.

Your attention slid to the swish of the Rabbit’s grey coat as he gestured to the occupants of the room. “Gentlemen, I would like to introduce someone special.”

A quick scan of the people lounging on a sofa cemented your first impression: a land of dreams, populated by dangerous denizens. The three men, who were now standing, were as similar in appearance as chalk and cheese, but they all had something in common – a tangible presence, a force of personality that would not be easily manoeuvred. The feeling of having walked into a lion’s den increased.

The red haired one’s smirk suggested he knew it too. “Hello, Alice. I thought you’d never show up.”

Your spine stiffened. “Alice?”

The Rabbit seemed to throw a sharp glance in the other man’s way. “I will explain, detective, but I need to gather some more members. Tendou,” he said to the red-head, who looked surprised, “introduce yourselves in full to the lady here. I’ll be back shortly.”

They watched as the Rabbit left with a soft click of the door. “Well, well, well,” crowed the male with feathery white hair, “this is a special guest indeed.” He extended a hand in your direction with a blinding smile. “Bokuto Kotarou, the Mad Hatter, at your service.”

You grasped his hand, the strength of his grip and his calloused skin making you narrow your eyes. “Detective ____, Criminal Affairs Bureau.”

A shorter male with intense hazel eyes grinned cheerfully. “Nishinoya Yuu, the March Hare. Nice to meet you. You can call me Noya.”

The one they called Tendou stepped closer, his drawl lilting with arrogance. “Tendou Satori, the Queen of Hearts. Welcome to the tea-party, Miss Alice.”

You tilted your head in curiosity. “Do they call you that because you have red hair?”

“No, because he’s the most deranged out of all us,” said Bokuto. “And considering I’m here, that’s saying something.”

“My, Bokuto,” came a husky voice that dragged awareness down your skin, “such self-awareness. Did you hit your head somewhere?”

The fourth presence in the room glided from a darkened recess, each step revealing a lithe form. Every feminine sense in your body went on alert. If the other males in the room were striking, this one was pure magnetism. The promise of knowing sensuality dripped from his toned frame, amber eyes slumberous with intent. Everything about his stance, his presence, his perceptive smirk was a siren song to your body. You waited, eyes half-lidded, trying to not think of silken sheets against bare skin as he stopped in front of you.

The air seemed to hum with anticipation as he spoke. “Kuroo Tetsurou. A pleasure to meet you, Alice.” He lingered on the word pleasure, using it to stroke your skin with suggestion.

A flare of surprising heat shot through your legs. You tipped your chin up to hide your reaction and gave him a cool smile. “The Cheshire Cat, I presume.” Because that kind of languid confidence could only belong to a feline predator. Though he was more like a sleepy panther than a house-cat.

Your defiance seemed to spark interest in his eyes. He leaned forward, enough for you to catch his cedar and spice scent. “Yes,” he murmured, “a very astute observation.” Kuroo’s gaze travelled down your face, lingering on your mouth. You felt his attention brush you like a physical caress, and it made you want to run your hands through his messy midnight hair. You shifted away from him, eliciting a small smile. Thankfully the Rabbit chose that moment to renter the room.

“Apologies for the wait,” came the still unknown voice. “But I have gathered everyone here.”

You inspected the new arrivals. One of them was absurdly tall, and he obviously knew it, staring down at the room through his glasses. Another was only slightly taller than Noya, golden-dark head tucked in towards his chest. Strangest of all was the kind-looking person, dressed in a soothing dark grey. This last man smiled pleasantly as he caught sight of you.

“You must be the detective,” he chimed. “My name is Sugawara Koushi. Sadly called the Mouse around here. This is Kozume Kenma, our Dormouse, and the unfriendly giant over there is Tsukishima Kei, the condescending Caterpillar. They are both pleased to meet you, but neither will say it.”

You inclined your head at them, still feeling Kuroo’s gaze on your back. “I’m guessing the Rabbit told you why I’m here.”

Sugawara’s face turned grave. “Yes, the Alice killings. I’ve heard about them.” Everyone else in the room went still with wariness and some surprise. You noted the range of reactions. None of them were happy.

Kozume spoke up quietly. “Are you going to tell her? About the Alices?”

The Rabbit squared his shoulders. “Yes.” You looked at him expectantly. The shadows around him seemed to intensify.

“The reason I invited you here, detective, is because you were right. The club is linked to the murders. Every girl that has been found killed so far has been a guest at Wonderland in the past two months.”

You had suspected as much, but it still made your jaw clench in worry. “How do you know? Hundreds of people probably go in and out of the bar.”

He shook his head. “But not all of them are invited here, to the Hall of Dreams. We remember our special guests, because they are chosen.”

Your mind raced, shifting pieces of a dark puzzle around, finding new patterns and pictures. “Do they all receive keys like this one?” You held up the object in question.

“In a fashion,” said Tendou. “They get single-use silver keys to a room of their choosing. You however” – he shot a glance at the inscrutable Rabbit – “have a key that grants unlimited access to every room.”

You filed that away for future reference. “But these keys were never found during the investigation,” you muttered, more to yourself than anyone. “That means…”

“The killer took the keys, most likely.” Tsukishima sounded bored. “The question is why.”

You gazed at the key thoughtfully. “Two reasons, I suspect. Firstly, these are distinctive, so they could be traced back to this club. Second, the crimes – two of them, at least – are the product of some pent-up rage. It might have to do with access to this area.”

Noya frowned. “But not every girl who visited the club was killed. And none of the guys who came by either.”

You looked up sharply. “You’ve had more customers than those six? But this club hasn’t been open that long.”

“There are ten of us altogether, you know,” Tendou said with amusement. “We take in multiple guests at a time. Unless,” he smirked suggestively, “more than one of us is required to participate.”

You ignored the innuendo. “Where are the other two? There’s only eight of you here.”

Sugawara answered. “You met Akaashi Keiji upstairs, he’s the bartender. He doesn’t technically deal with guests, but he is counted as the King of Hearts. We also have a Duchess, Kiyoko, but she doesn’t come in that often.”

You rubbed your neck in despair. “This just got massively complicated. So was there anything in common about those girls that came in?”

Bokuto pursed his lips. “We wouldn’t really be able to tell you unless you showed us pictures or something. The Rabbit over there is the one who brings them here, so he remembers them, but each of us has probably only seen one or two of them.”

You stared at the aforementioned Rabbit, who looked content to stay in the shadows. “And are you planning to tell me your name anytime soon?”

He went very still. “I would prefer not to,” came the quiet reply.

“You do realize this doesn’t look good? Everything you’ve said points to someone in the club – either a guest or staff – being the killer and the latter is more likely. You seem to be the only one that remembers these girls clearly, and you refuse to show me your face. So either you’re the culprit, or you’re all lying to me. Either way I’d have to arrest you.”

Kenma looked upset. “He wouldn’t invite you here and point out the link if he was the killer.”

“Not really,” you countered. “Serial killers of this type are attention-seeking, and it could be a thinly veiled disguise to throw me off.”

“But you don’t think I am, do you?” The Rabbit’s tone was light. “Or you wouldn’t discuss this in front of me.”

You considered his mask of darkness for a while. Eventually you sighed. “No. Call it instinct or something, but I don’t. I bet you have proof of your non-involvement anyway.”

He inclined his head in graceful acknowledgement. “I am here all night every evening. This makes it impossible for me to have committed most of those murders.”

You absorbed this, feeling the weariness settle into your bones. “Well then, I’m too tired to make sense of this right now. I’ll return with the files tomorrow. Thank you for your time.” You dipped your head and turned to leave. A hand gripped your elbow, stopping you.

“Wait.” You looked up at Kuroo’s burnished eyes, feeling heat seep through your shirt from his fingers.

He hesitated. “You said there were six girls, but the news only mentioned five.”

A sharp-eyed cat indeed. You needed to watch out for him. “We found another body today.” You didn’t elaborate.

“I see.” He let go, leaving you bereft of warmth. No one stopped you from leaving this time. You didn’t let your guard down until you reached home and collapsed into bed, mind churning over the events of the day. When you finally fell asleep, your dreams were plagued by blood-red roses, a sea of tears and black cats with knowing smiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...that went well, I think. I have a story planned out now, and hopefully I will manage to execute it well. Tell me what you think so far.


	3. A long tale

You dragged yourself into the station the next day, your endurance stretched to its limits. You sank into the chair at your chaotic desk with a sigh and closed your eyes. A second later, an enticing cinnamon aroma filled the air. You opened one eye to the glorious sight of a coffee cup.

“You look like you got run over by a train. Slowly. Twice.” Iwaizumi didn’t sound at all sympathetic, but then he never did.

“Morning to you too, Hajime.” You took a long sip of the dark liquid and nearly moaned in relief.  “I’ll forgive you for pointing out how terrible I look since you brought the elixir of life.”

He perched on the edge of your desk and folded his arms. “You’re welcome. How are you feeling after…?”

Your jaw clenched at the reference to the abrupt dissolution of your engagement. There was no point hiding anything from him, he’d known you for years now. You looked up into his face, locking your stare with his steady gaze. “I still want to gently change the shape of his face, if that’s what you mean.”

He glowered, barely restraining his own violent tendencies. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

You swirled the dregs of the coffee, contemplating the wreck that your life had become. “I’m managing. That’s all I can do. If I sit down and think about it, I’ll cry my heart out and it won’t help anyone. Maybe if we solve this case soon, I can use your shoulder as a prop for my dejected self.”

Iwaizumi regarded you for a heartbeat longer. He patted your arm and spoke gruffly. “I won’t let you use me as a mop, but I can always drag Oikawa out for you instead.”

You gave your partner a tired yet grateful smile. “You’re a pillar of support, my friend.”

Whatever sardonic reply he was going to make was cut off as a someone approached, his slim frame vibrating with nervous energy. You and Iwaizumi stared, baffled, as the young man executed a perfect salute, sending his mop of shiny black hair flying. “Officer Kageyama Tobio, reporting for duty!”

Realization dawned. “Oh. You’re the new rookie they assigned to us.” You took in his sharp blue eyes, wide with hope. “At ease, soldier. Whose nerves did you get on to get this as your first assignment?”

“Are you sure it isn’t a punishment for us?” Iwaizumi muttered under his breath. You elbowed him in the ribs.

“I- erm- I’m not sure what you mean, Sergeant.” Kageyama blinked in confusion.

You tilted your head back in brief prayer. “Sorry, Kageyama-kun, we’re just…Never mind. This is Iwaizumi Hajime, he’s a fairly nice guy, just don’t let him goad you into a drinking competition. I’m ____.”

Your partner jabbed a thumb at you. “She’s not a fully functioning human being in the morning, but don’t worry. She doesn’t actually eat people.”

You rolled your eyes. “One cup of coffee does not give you diplomatic immunity, Hajime.”

Kageyama’s eyes jumped back and forth between you both, unsure what to make of this. You took pity on him and smiled. “What do you know about the case- well cases – that we’re investigating?”

He pursed his lips. “Only the bare minimum, Sergeant. Six women have been found dead, different C.O.Ds each time, each ten days apart. The only link between the murders is that they all had playing cards with the word Alice written on them, found at the scene. Oh, and all the victims were dressed up as Alice from the books.”

Iwaizumi tapped a yellow binder. “The first victim was Sasaki Megumi. A restaurant owner in her late 20s. She went missing after a party. They found her a couple of days later when a couple was walking through the woods.”

You slid out a photo from the file. “More precisely, the woman in the pair looked up when she felt something drip onto her face. Sasaki had been torn apart and scattered everywhere.”

Kageyama’s face went pale at the sight of a head impaled on a branch, mouth wide in an eternal scream. To his credit, he didn’t look away. “Is that a playing card in her mouth?”

“Yes, the Jack of Spades. Sasaki seems to be the only one without the Alice costume.” You turned thoughtful. “Taken together with the frenzied mode of killing, it makes me think it was a crime of passion. The perpetrator was likely in a fit of rage.”

Iwaizumi picked up the thread and continued, expression grim. “The next one was Kai Sakura, a university student. Similar levels of brutality, but there’s evidence of pre-meditation. Her parents had the whole town looking for her for days. Then they found her in a shallow grave, heavily mutilated.”

Kageyama’s jaw clenched at the next photo. “There’s- there’s a crown. Stitched onto her head.”

You felt the darkness creeping back around the edges of your vision. The pain and terror frozen into her rag-doll face haunted your waking moments relentlessly. Your hand tightened around the paper cup. “It might have something to do with the Queen of Clubs card she had. Anyway, the killer is clearly getting cocky now. That’s why he made a slip.”

The rookie cop bent over to look at the grainy video footage Iwaizumi pulled up. “Where is this from?”

“The third victim’s apartment. Yamane Akemi was a part-time singer in a band. Sang at a small bar in the evenings. Worked at the local konbini during day. Had a sweet, soft-spoken personality by all accounts.” You put a soothing hand on his shoulder as Iwaizumi’s voice became rough. “In a show of real arrogance, the killer abducted her from her apartment, ripped her throat out and left her body slumped on a table for the bar-owner to find.  She had a Diamond King in her hand. Turns out being  that ballsy was a bad idea, because a surveillance camera caught him leaving the apartment, though his face is hidden.”    

Kageyama swallowed, fear turning his eyes glassy. “A-and the next one?”

“The next two,” you corrected gently, “were twins. Oshiro Hina and Hana. They ran a law firm together. C.O.D was poisoning – we found a bottle saying “Drink Me” and a cake with “Eat Me” iced on it. Probably the least violent of the killings, if you can say that about murder. They had half of a card each, the Ace of Hearts.”

“The one we found four days ago,” sighed Iwaizumi, “was Ueda Yukiko, a thirty-something nurse. Her co-worker became worried when she didn’t show up to work. When the neighbourhood police got into her apartment, her five-year old son was sitting by the bathtub, scared to death. Her body was floating in the water, and her hands had been cut off. Her card was a Two of Spades.”    

Kageyama flinched a little when he looked into your face. He didn’t know how far the horrors went, how utterly bleak your soul had become over the last two months. You had to push down the memory of a child who might never speak again. It wouldn’t help him to linger on your own feelings. You came back to reality to hear the end of Iwaizumi’s sentence.

“…and there’s no apparent connection between the victims.”

“As of now, that’s not true.” Both of them focused their unyielding attention on you. “I found out something yesterday.”

When you finished summarizing the events of the previous evening, Kageyama rested his chin on his hand, thinking. You had to resist the overwhelming urge to pat his head. He was so young and unblemished. He piped up, oblivious to your thoughts. “So the club calls all its special guests Alice?”

You nodded. “Presumably the suspect has regular access to the club and the underground areas.”

Iwaizumi was pacing next to the board now, deep in his own conclusions. You saw the beginnings of a familiar resolve building on his face as he spoke. “So how does that fit into the order of the killings? The murderer started off with a lot of rage, probably had no plans to kill the first victim. Then they realized they could do it again, get away with it. So the second one is showy, a taunt. Then…”

The younger male caught on to your partner’s line of thought and straightened. “And then they’re all in cold blood because he just likes killing for the sake of it now.”

You placed a palm on a photo, feeling a crimson thread binding you to the sorrowfully still girl in the picture. “They’re punishments,” you intoned quietly. “For defying his wishes. Whatever they are.”

There’s a moment of silence before Iwaizumi turned to Kageyama. “We can talk about this on the way to the lab. There’s someone you need to meet.”

The lone figure hunched over the table in the forensics room didn’t look up when you entered. “I’m busy, go away.”

“We brought a fresh recruit, Semi.” You tilted your head in amusement. “If you would take your eyes from the microscope for a second, you can register him and go back to brooding.”

Your favourite analyst scowled and pushed back his glasses onto his head, making his silvery hair stand up in tufts. “I’m not brooding. If you had any gratitude at all, you’d leave me alone to the mountain of work they’ve left me with.” He didn’t wait for your reply before looking poor Kageyama up and down once. “Okay, registered. Now disappear.”

You settled your hip against the table and smiled pleasantly. “I love you too, Semi. Have you got any news for me?”

He gave you a flat look of displeasure and pulled a sheet from a teetering stack of papers. “The autopsy results are out. Ueda Yukiko died from asphyxiation by drowning. No big surprise there.”

Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow. “And?”

Semi sighed and pulled another sheet from the perilously stacked tower. You saw Kageyama eye the wobbling paper structure with trepidation. “The analysis finally came back on the poison used in the twins’ food.” He bit his lip. “It’s tetrodotoxin. A neurotoxin commonly found in poisonous marine animals.”

You and Iwaizumi straightened in attention. You leaned closer to Semi. “That would be hard to procure, wouldn’t it?”

The analyst twirled a pen in consideration. “Yeah, I’d say so. It’s not usually synthesized artificially either, so you can’t just buy it. It’s worth looking into the source.”

“I can do it.” Iwaizumi’s eyes slid to the junior officer as Kageyama held his hand up. “I can try to trace the poison.”

Semi nodded like that solved everything. “There you go, the new kid is offering to do it for you. Now can I please get back to this fingerprint sample?”

You nudged his shoulder. “You sure you don’t want to join us for lunch, snow queen?”

“And spend half an hour in interminable agony? No thanks.”

Iwaizumi shook his head as you left the lab, muttering something about cicadas and people with no lives. Kageyama shook his head fervently when you repeated your question about lunch, saying he had something to look up, and ran off. You stepped outside with Iwaizumi, turning left to take the path to your usual izakaya, when an arm suddenly slung itself around your shoulder.

“___-chan, were you and Iwa-chan going to abandon me and go to lunch? How mean.”

You gave Oikawa a long-suffering look. “Abandonment implies we have a choice, which hasn’t been the case since college.”

Iwaizumi bumped fists with you. “For once we agree on something.”

Oikawa’s head drooped to rest on your shoulder. You ruffled his glossy hair affectionately. “How’s life in the limelight treating you, Tooru?”

“Same old, same old. Being a celebrity news anchor does have its downsides, you know.”

You looped your arm through his and dragged him forward. “Like what? All the people in love with you?”

He narrowed his eyes at you. “When they follow you around and invade your privacy, yes.”

Iwaizumi’s mouth curled down unhappily. “Is someone bothering you?”

Your other best friend smiled, eerily reminding you of a cat that caught the canary. “Why Iwa-chan, are you feeling protective of me?”

“Yeah,” replied Iwaizumi simply. “I am. Wouldn’t anyone be?” There was long silence in which Oikawa watched Iwaizumi with a strained expression. You stopped and looked up at the izakaya’s name emblazoned in red.

“Tooru, you’re paying this time.” The tension dissipated as Oikawa gave you a betrayed look.

“But why? You’re punishing me for something I didn’t even do,” he said with a pout.

“You’re paid more than me and Hajime combined,” you pointed out. “I think you can afford to treat us to some ramen without breaking the bank.” Iwaizumi nodded solemnly.

He threw his hands up in surrender. “Fine. You first, ___-chan,” he said, holding the curtains to the entrance open. Oikawa made a grand flourish. “Age before beauty, remember?”

You made sure to step hard on his foot as you walked in. He yelped and followed you to a quiet table in the corner, scowling at you the whole way. Iwaizumi was shaking his head at your collective antics when the server came to take your orders. You noted with amusement the glazed adoration on her face as Oikawa gave her a dazzling smile.

“So,” you said to Iwaizumi when you were alone again, “how should we go about dealing with this?”

Oikawa sipped from a glass of water, dark eyes watchful. “Have you made any progress with the Alice killer?”

You told him what you’d learned at the club. “I think I’ll have to go back there and question them all,” you finished. “There’s a lot more under the surface than they’re letting on.”

“The whole thing seems extremely shady to me,” growled Iwaizumi. “I’m going with you.”

You wondered how to go about this gently. “I don’t think it’s a good idea. I have feeling their trust is fragile, and anything could break it. I need you to look up their files instead so we can corroborate their stories later. It’s time consuming, but Kageyama-kun can help.”

Green eyes locked with yours in a battle of wills as Iwaizumi made his disapproval known. You gazed back until he looked away with a sigh. “Be careful. This perp has no boundaries, no rules. You could be targeted.”

Oikawa gave you a pleasant smile. “I could accompany you, if you like. This club sounds very interesting.”

Before you could say it, Iwaizumi shook his head. “No, definitely not. It’s bad enough that she wants to waltz in there without protection, but taking you along? That’s not happening.”

Oikawa’s face was set in stubborn resolve. He lifted his chin. “I can take care of myself, Iwa-chan. ‘Sides, the killer only targets women.”

That seemed to make the other male falter. His face turned grim again. “I still say no. There’s no guarantee the murderer will continue to follow this pattern, and you might not be able to follow ___ to the underground floor. It’s unsafe for a host of reasons.”

You watched in fascination as Oikawa turned predatory. “Iwa-chan,” he said, lips curling upwards, “are you really just worried for me?”

Iwaizumi frowned, setting his glass down with a tap. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean,” Oikawa intoned, voice husky, “you’re coming up with a bunch of flimsy reasons for me not to visit a club. As if I haven’t been to a million of them. Is there something in particular about this one that bothers you? Like the fact that there’s a collection of attractive, intriguing people?”

You bit your cheek as you saw Iwaizumi’s knuckles turn white. “Are you saying,” he gritted out, “that I’m jealous?”

There was a rustle as Oikawa leaned forward, his gaze fixed on Iwaizumi’s. “I don’t know. Are you?”

It was lightning-fast, but you caught it as Iwaizumi’s eyes dropped to Oikawa’s mouth. Judging from the way his shoulders stiffened, Tooru knew it too. Your partner parted his lips to speak. “I-“

A shrill ring drove a spike into the strange moment building at the table. You finally breathed again as Iwaizumi left to take the call, your chest easing out of a tightness you didn’t know you felt. Oikawa just stared at the table with a dark expression, his frame rigid with tension. You sighed.

“Tooru, when are you both going to stop dancing around each other and just say it?” You had lost track of the number of times they came close to the edge of that precipice.

He didn’t look at you. “I can’t risk it, ___-chan. You and Iwa-chan are the only people I have left.” His voice was quiet, broken. “I just can’t.”

You put your hand over his, feeling his pain like your own. “I’m not going to interfere, but…this isn’t going to last forever.”

He didn’t say anything when you and Iwaizumi left for the station. Your partner’s face had turned into a granite mask, and you knew better than to prod him for answers. After spending a while collecting files to take with you, it was time to leave, so you waved at Iwaizumi. He nodded back briskly. “Be safe, ___.”

Twenty minutes later you found yourself staring at a door, powder blue this time, and wondering what awaited you behind its polished surface. There was only one way to find out. You inhaled for calm, turned the knob and walked in.

A shirtless Kuroo greeted you with an inscrutable smile. You swallowed at the sight of gloriously dusky skin, marble-like musculature and that sinful hair over one eye. “Detective. I see you’ve found the Pool of Tears.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG, this chapter is so long and rambly, forgive me. I hate to dump all this exposition on you, but it's   
> (a) necessary to understand the story  
> (b) really difficult for me to resist writing character interactions.
> 
> I promise the next one will be more plot and smiley Kuroo. If all goes well, it will be up in the next two days. On a side note, if anyone would like to beta-read for me, I'll love you forever.


	4. The pool of tears

Once when you were little, you watched a movie about a mermaid princess who wanted to be human and got her wish. It had struck you as silly for many reasons – why would anyone want to stop being a mermaid, and what did they eat if the fish were friends – but one scene in particular had stuck. It was no more than a few seconds where the foolish mermaid lounged in her seashell castle, but the beauty of the setting stayed with you. The Pool of Tears was that, but with more of the sensuality of a Turkish bath than the white purity of a children’s movie. Instead of seashells, there were sparkling waterfalls pouring out of clover-shaped spouts, and teardrop alcoves held lush towels, fragrant oils and ceramic figurines. Liquid mirrors in gilded frames reflected soft light onto the central basin. It was fantastical, perfect, and you couldn’t look at any of it thanks to the men in varying states of undress.

You tried hard to concentrate on your notepad, but somewhere in your years of training at the academy, they’d left out the procedure that dealt with distracting displays of male beauty. It wasn’t like you hadn’t seen other men stripped down before, but never so many that edged close to perfection, and never at once. Though if you were being honest, it was one person in particular that kept derailing your train of thought.

Tendou seemed to sense this as well. You caught sight of a pale neck as he shifted on a bench and his yukata fell open. “Are you having difficulty concentrating, detective?” Crimson eyes glowed with amusement.

You didn’t let it derail you. “Not at all, Tendou-san. I’m just trying to process what you’ve told me so far. In essence, the way it works is that your guests – the Alices – pick a door from the hallway and whoever happens to be in that room is the one that talks to the guest?”

Tsukishima leaned back against the edge of the heated pool, eyes closed. “I suspect it isn’t that simple. The Rabbit probably redirects the Alice to the right room. He seems capable of that kind of manipulation.”

“And then what? What exactly does your interaction with the guest involve?”

“Are you curious, ____-san?” You stiffened as a familiar baritone brushed down your spine. Every neuron in your body seemed to come alive as Kuroo’s husky voice played across your skin with cat’s paws. “We could demonstrate, if you like.”

You braced yourself for the impact and looked up. With significant effort, you kept your eyes from tracing the hollows of his throat, down to where his waist tapered into the crystalline water. His smirk was still devastating, but you were prepared. “Perhaps another time,” you murmured, “when I’m not chasing an insane killer on a rapidly dwindling deadline.”

The golden fire in his eyes dimmed a bit, but he dipped his head with a smile. “Of course. I meant no offense.”

Sugawara cleared his throat. Merriment danced across his face, but he was as polite as always. “It depends on the guest. Some of them just want someone to talk to, so we act as the friends who will listen. Some of them need a different perspective, so we help them see things differently. Others need inspiration or a retreat from the world, and we play the characters that add colour to their lives. I won’t deny that some of them only want physical pleasure, and that we provide it, but it has more to do with their loneliness than anything else.”

You glanced at Kuroo and Tsukishima where they were sprawled in the bath, all long limbs and indolent self-possession. “And all of you? Are you lonely as well? Is that why you do this?”

Everyone in the room seemed to turn static at the words. Tendou seemed to shut in on himself, expression darkening. Sugawara looked away, and Tsukishima’s jaw turned tight. Only Kuroo looked back at you, gaze burning into your face. “We all have our reasons,” he said softly.

You nodded. “I won’t pry. Though I can guess what you’re hiding. What from you guys just said, you’re a basically glorified host club. Doesn’t take a detective to figure out the rest.”

Sugawara choked on a laugh. Tendou returned to smirking, while Tsukishima just sighed and sank deeper into the water. Kuroo’s mouth curved with mischief. “Would it make you feel better if we had an actual name for it?”

“I’m not sure,” you admitted.

“Then it doesn’t matter what you call it,” he replied with a hint of a laugh.

“If you say so.” You pulled out six photos from a folder and fanned them out. “Do any of you remember these women?”

You felt your spine prickle as they all turned the full force of their attention to you. Sugawara pointed to one of the pictures. “That one. I didn’t actually meet her as such, but I was in the room when Kiyoko was talking to her. I remember them sitting by the piano in the Queen’s Garden.”

You looked down at Yamane Akemi’s shyly flushed face. “She was with the Duchess?”

Kuroo tilted his head in thought. “I think Kiyoko was helping her with stage fright. I remember someone saying she had a pretty voice.”

You held up a hand to stall them, pulling out your pocket recorder. “Wait, I need to keep track of this.”

Tsukishima narrowed his eyes at you. “I’d rather you didn’t keep records of the exchanges here.”

You smiled sweetly. “And I’d rather that this conversation be happening at the station, but here we are.”

He glared at you for a second longer before exhaling in an exasperated sigh. “The girl with the pink scarf. We modelled for her. She was an art student, said she was having difficulty finding inspiration. I think everyone except Kenma and Tendou here met her.”

That didn’t help narrow down Sakura’s death by much, though it was something. “Anything else?”

Kuroo shifted to roll his shoulders, the motion making the water ripple around him. Droplets trickled down his collarbone, painting the firm planes of his chest. “The Alice with the green eyes, I remember her. She was…hot-blooded, to put it gently.”

You added Megumi to your mental tally. “Did she not get along with someone? If not from the club, maybe another guest?”

Again, that devious grin, all schemes and secrets. “No, she got along _very_ well with us. Though Bokuto’s the one that spent most of the evening with her.”

Sugawara frowned. “This would be a lot easier if we had the keys. We’d know who met whom.”

Your hand stilled over the paper. “Why is that?”

“The ends of the keys have our symbols on them, as a reminder to the guest that dreams can be made reality. For example, Kuroo’s would have a cat on it if the guest was his. Again, this just shows how far ahead the Rabbit plans.”

You turned your attention to the last photo. “Well, the keys are missing, so I’ll just have to rely on your memories. Does anyone remember the twins?”

Everyone seemed to be suppressing their reactions. “Who doesn’t?” countered Tendou. “That was a singularly memorable evening.”

“Bokuto still goes on about it,” drawled Tsukishima. “I just keep hoping something more spectacular would happen so I won’t have to relive the memory of his moaning.”

You blinked, not entirely sure where this was heading. Unfortunately Sugawara seemed to be incapacitated by laughter, so he was no help. You looked at Kuroo.

He shrugged. “Don’t ask me about it. I politely refused to join in.”

Tendou tutted in disappointment. “Tsk, Kuroo, you should learn to take the rare opportunities that come your way. Tell me, detective,” he said in a rhetorical tone, “would you turn down an offer to be sandwiched between two beautiful women?”

“I don’t do foursomes,” you replied blandly. “So the answer is yes.”

“I don’t think you do anyone,” muttered the redhead. “How did you know it was a foursome?”

You crossed your legs. “I can’t imagine you not jumping in where you’re not wanted.”

“Ha!” Tsukishima’s smile was positively demonic. “She got you good, Tendou.”

Sugawara changed the subject before he could retort. “Is there anything else you would like to know, ___-san?”

“It would be helpful if you all gave me your alibis now.” You tapped the folder you were carrying. “It would save me some time.”

Sugawara beamed. “Well I have a pretty strong one  - I don’t take female guests.”

You stared at him for a moment. That _was_ a pretty strong argument. “But you could have killed them anyway.”

He nodded solemnly. “That’s true. I was out of town when the first one happened, though. You can verify it. I have receipts and such.”

You made a note to follow up on that, and moved on to the next person. “Tsukishima-san?”

He waved a dismissive hand, flicking water everywhere. “I wasn’t here two of those nights, so I couldn’t have seen those guests. You can check with Kenma, we were logged into the same MMORPG on those days. There should be logs online.”

“Plus he’s too disdainful to actually kill anyone,” added Sugawara. “Since that would actually require the effort of contact with a person.”

You wondered how Tsukishima even worked at the club, but then this place always left you with more questions than answers. “Then, Tendou-san?”

He leaned back against the wall with an unidentifiable expression. Unease? “I…don’t really have one. I was here most nights.”

“Same here,” said Kuroo. “Bokuto and Noya are here quite often as well.”

“Hmm. Then one last question before I go find the others. Do any of you know what tetrodotoxin is?”

A series of comically blank faces gave you incredulous looks. Kuroo’s eyes were narrowed in thought.

“Isn’t that a poison,” he mused, “you find in pufferfish?”

Sugawara’s huge eyes blinked at him. “How did you know that?”

To your surprise, Kuroo flushed and looked away. “I, erm, like watching wildlife documentaries…”

Your mouth tipped up in a reluctant smile. “I’ll be back shortly. I need to work through your statements and build a timeline. I might need to verify some things.”

Tsukishima glanced your way. “We promise not to leave town.”

You pursed your lips to contain your laughter and left the steam-hazed room. Twenty minutes later, you had a spread of evidence in front of you and no idea what to do with it. Noya and the rest had given you similar reports, but nothing stood out as anomalous. You sighed and shuffled some notes across the bar table.

“Would you like something to drink?” Akaashi’s voice was a quiet ripple in your tumbled thoughts.

You gave him an apologetic look. “No thank you, I’m on duty.” You gestured to the mass of papers in front of you. “I’m just trying to sort my thoughts out.”

Akaashi disappeared and then materialized with a mug. “Green tea. I find it helps me concentrate.”

You inhaled the fragrant steam and looked at him gratefully. “Truly a King of Hearts, Akaashi-san. Well, mine anyway.”

He smiled slightly, his intense eyes lighting up. “I wish everyone felt the same way as you, ___-san.”

You leaned forward in curiosity. “Is it true that bartenders know everyone’s secrets?”

Akaashi exhaled in frustration. “If I did, I’d be able to help you with your case. I’m not sure why I give this impression. Even the others seem to think my day job involves the secret services.”

You rested your chin on your hand. “What do you do in the mornings, then?”

He looked up from where he was polishing a martini glass. “I’m a pastry chef.”

“Ohohoho! Detective, did you not know that?” Bokuto sauntered over, seemingly overjoyed by how wide your eyes had become.

Akaashi raised an eyebrow. “Clearly not, or she wouldn’t have asked me. Unlike someone, she isn’t in the habit of asking needless questions.”

Bokuto leaned on the counter, unfazed by the sarcasm. “Hey, detective, were you as surprised as I was when I found out what he does? Wait till you see his cakes, you’ll be even more shocked. They’re amazing.”

The other male set down a bottle of shochu and gave him a look of exasperated affection. “Here, before you ask. I’m sure the officer doesn’t need you pestering her while she’s doing her work.”

He picked up the alcohol with a stubborn expression. “I’m not such bad company. Right?” He turned to you. “Right?”

You resisted the urge to mess with his spiky hair and nodded solemnly. “I won’t stop you if you want to join me.”

“Aha!” Bokuto gave Akaashi a victorious grin. “Too bad for you, Akaashi. I’m staying.”

Akaashi rolled his eyes and turned away to replace a glass, but not before you caught his smile. You went back to gazing at your notes, willing some sort of pattern or clue to emerge. Bokuto cocked his head curiously as you lined up several pages. You answered the question he was bound to ask sooner or later.

“I’m trying to figure out if there’s a common factor between the victims. The days they came in, what they talked about, their preferences, something like that, but I haven’t found anything so far. They’re all women who were in the club once, and that’s it. Why not the other women, or the men? It’s frustrating me.”

He scrunched up his face in thought. “Well, speaking for myself, I’m not picky about the guests I meet, so I can see why it’s difficult. Like I said earlier, I don’t remember all of them of either.”

A sliver of light began to filter through. “No,” you said slowly, “but they remember you. I’ve been looking at this the wrong way. Bokuto-san, I think you might be a genius.”

He looked incredibly pleased with himself. “Akaashi, did you hear that? I helped with the case.”

The bartender didn’t look up from the drink he was mixing. “That’s great news. Shouldn’t you be getting back downstairs now?”

Bokuto gave you a wink as he left, the shochu bottle dangling from his hand. You considered Akaashi for a moment and spoke. “When you said earlier that you wished everyone was like me, did you really just mean one person in particular, Akaashi-san?”

His eyes opened wider with surprise. “How did you know?” His voice was quiet, cautious.

You smiled sadly, remembering another unrequited love. “You were tracking him with your eyes the whole time.”

“I hope you don’t intend to tell him.” His face had gone back to its usual impassiveness, though his demeanour was fragile.

“No, it’s none of my business. I wish you luck, Akaashi-san, sincerely.” You stacked your papers together. “Thank you for the tea and being kind. It really helped.”

He nodded as you returned to the whimsical landscape of Wonderland, this time opening the buttercup yellow door.

* * *

Kuroo looked up from his fan of cards as the detective entered what they secretly called the Warren. The unspooled threads of his awareness, which had been draped over everyone and everything else in the room, suddenly redirected themselves to wind around your form, as it had been doing ever since he’d first laid eyes on you. The beginnings of a smile curled the corner of his mouth as a familiar anticipation began to build.

He let his eyes catch on the upturned sweep of your hair, pulled neatly into a chignon. It had been so gloriously unbound, wild and free on the first day, catching his attention with the incongruous femininity of the loose waves against the practical, no-nonsense leather jacket you wore. The more he thought about it, the more intrigued he was. As beautiful as it was, waist-length hair was a ridiculously impractical thing for an overworked police officer to maintain. It made him wonder what other secrets you were hiding under those sensible clothes.

He leaned back against the chair, game forgotten, crossing his legs in a casual pose that gave away nothing of the adrenaline pulsing through his blood. You strode in as you always did, confidently calm, and took in every detail of the room before addressing everyone. “Apologies for the interruption, but I would like your help with something.” He felt his smirk deepen as your eyes settled on him.

Suga, bless his kindly soul, was the first to answer. “Of course. What can we do?”

Kuroo felt the loss of your attention keenly when your gaze shifted to the silver-haired man. “I’ve managed to both eliminate a lot of the suspects and widen them at the same time. Because I was thinking of it the other way around, you see.”

Noya’s eyes were wide with excitement. Kuroo didn’t really blame him, the suspense was nigh unbearable. “Did you figure out something?”

Kuroo’s eyes narrowed in calculation as you glanced at him again. “Yes, when I realized that the  binding factor wasn’t a what, but a who. The victims are linked together because they all talked to one person.” He held his breath at the steel in your eyes as you walked over to him, hips swaying. “Kuroo-san. You’re the common denominator in the murders.”

“Are you saying I’m the killer?” His voice was low.

“No, I’m saying you’re most likely the reason the killer goes after them. What all these women have in common is the fact that they interacted with you. They may not have been your guests, but you spoke to all of them. And I’m guessing,” you added, “that someone doesn’t like the idea of sharing you. At all.”

He wondered if you knew that because you felt the same way, and the thought sparked under his skin. Kuroo laced his fingers together. “And how do you know it’s not me, or any one of us? We are the only ones who know about the guests.”

You didn’t disappoint him, unerringly logical as always. It made him want to unravel you, a mystery waiting to have its ribbons untied. “That’s not true. The Rabbit recruits guests in the bar, doesn’t he? Most people are too self-absorbed to notice his conversations, but someone who was previously a visitor here would know what to look for. They’d know who was coming down here.”

Kiyoko, surprisingly, lifted her eyes from the fireplace to speak. “But then they would have to know that Kuroo-san was the person the guest met.”

Kenma got there before you could. “No, they don’t. The keys have our stamps, remember? If the killer has the resourcefulness to stalk the guests back to their homes, then it wouldn’t be too hard to find out which key they had.”

Noya edged closer, unable to stay still. “So what are you going to do now?”

You lifted a shoulder uneasily. “I’ll have to bait the killer. There’s only five more days till another body turns up. If I can turn their attention to me, it will make it easier to find them.”

Bokuto looked as worried as Kuroo felt. “And how do you plan to do that?”

He couldn’t take his eyes off you as you coloured a little, the flush tinting the curve of your throat. Kuroo straightened, flexing his claws as he sensed an opportunity to pounce. You bit your lip before answering. “I- I’ll have to take you up on your offer, Kuroo-san.”

A coil of heat began to unfurl in his core as he absorbed your meaning. But the urge to tease, to fray some more of your composure and bring out a hint of that fire he’d sensed, was too strong to resist. So he played at ignorance. “I don’t understand you, detective.”

Your jawline tightened and your eyes flashed in annoyance. His smile widened in response. “I’m saying,” you said evenly, “that I have to be the next target. The next guest. So I’m asking you to go out with me, Kuroo-san.”

This time, he didn’t pretend. He dropped the mask of barely restrained indifference and let you see it, all of the feelings you inspired in him – the challenge, the laughter, the sheer desire. He let it burn through him and down the link between you. You swallowed, a hint of panic in your eyes. Kuroo’s smile was all sinful promise and dangerous temptation when he answered.

“Where shall we begin, Alice?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter happened. Yeah.   
> I'm just going to leave this here and see how you feel about it.


	5. Sugar and spice

Iwaizumi crossed his arms as you entered the office, a bulwark of truth, justice and simmering impatience. He looked you over once and spoke. “Any news?”

You shrugged your jacket off, nodding at Kageyama, who was frantically typing something in the corner. “Some. Did you get my texts? I want to verify their stories before I tell you anything.”

He dragged a chair over to where the rookie cop was sitting. “Yeah, come see.”

A stack of personal files were set in front of you. Honestly, you were so sick of all the paperwork, sometimes you wondered what department you worked in. Iwaizumi flipped open two of them. “So we checked up on the two that said they were logged in online at the time of the murders.”

“Kozume-san and Tsukishima-san?”

“Yeah, them. It pans out, so we can safely eliminate those two from the list. Not that we needed the logs, since their heights don’t match the figure from the CCTV footage anyway.”

You drummed your fingers on the table in thought. “Yes, the murderer has to be within the range of 5’11” to 6’1”, so that automatically removes Nishinoya-san, Kozume-san and Shimizu-san, who is also obviously female. I didn’t think it could be Tsukishima-san either, his physique type is wrong. I just wanted to know if anyone tried to lie to us.”

“By the way, did you know glasses guy is a cardiac surgeon? Why does that kind of person need to hang out here?” Iwaizumi looked up at you expectantly.

Your eyebrows shot up into your hairline. “That person is a doctor? No wonder he hates humanity.”

Kageyama scowled a little. “He looks like the kind of guy I wouldn’t get along with.”

“Yeah, well, that makes two of us. Hajime, anything on Sugawara-san?”

He handed you a file. “Pretty boy works in sales. His story checks out as well. He was in Ibaraki at the time, ryokan owner confirmed it. Seems a bit convenient, but there are plenty of records, so unless something else turns up, he’s off our list.”

You were vaguely relieved. If someone as nice as Sugawara was a stone-cold killer, you’d lose all hope for the future of mankind. “What else?”

Iwaizumi blew out a tired breath. “We looked up the others, but there’s not much there to point us in either direction. From your description, the Rabbit is the right height, but we can’t trace a nameless person.” 

“The building lease records lead nowhere,” added Kageyama. “It’s registered to a dummy firm that’s clearly a front. Whoever owns the club has covered their tracks well.”

Iwaizumi’s hair became even spikier as he mussed it in frustration. “Without fingerprints and DNA, we’re left with good old-fashioned sleuthing to figure this out. And we’ve got four days to do it. So what did you find?”

You gave them a concise recap of the previous night’s events and your own suspicions. “Everything about these murders points to an emotional involvement on the part of the perpetrator. Men like Kuroo aren’t just attractive, they pull you in completely until they’re all you can think about. I wouldn’t at all be surprised if he had some deranged fans.”

Your partner gave you a narrow-eyed look. “Why do I feel like you’re speaking from personal experience?”

You ignored him and ploughed on. “The problem now is, we can’t just wait for the culprit to fall in our hands. I’ll try my best to draw him out, but we need to keep investigating other leads. Are there any?”

Kageyama suddenly let out a hiss of victory. “I knew it! ___-san, over here.”

You and Iwaizumi bent over the chair to look the screen. Kageyama started explaining with the speed of a runaway train on greased tracks.

“So I was looking through the surveillance from Yamane-san’s apartment, just to see if I could find anything, and look at this.” The video blurred to rewind to a point when the young woman entered her apartment. He jabbed excitedly at her slim form. “Don’t you see?”

The both of you gave him deadpan looks. “We really don’t, Kageyama-kun,” you said.

“It’s the coat! She’s wearing a coat!” He announced this like it held the key to the secrets of the universe.

“I hate to break it to you, but people generally do wear those in winter,” Iwaizumi remarked dryly.

Kageyama sighed. “The murderer enters the house shortly after this. Yamane-san was most likely taken by surprise. That means we should have found the coat with her other discarded clothes, but we didn’t. So where is it now?”

Your eyes sharpened. “So the killer either has it or discarded it elsewhere. Which means someone might have seen him. Kageyama-kun, what rank did you graduate with in the academy?”

He flushed, reminding you of a sharp-edged powder puff. “I-I was in the top five.”

Iwaizumi let out a low whistle. “I don’t know whether to be impressed at your intelligence or just berate myself for not noticing it sooner. Here,” he tossed a key at Kageyama, “take the car and go do some questioning about that coat. You’ve earned it.”

The younger male nodded, eyes shining. You gave him a small smile. “One day, when this is all over, you need to come out to drinks with us and tell us about it. For now, will you ask Semi about the weapon used on Ueda-san? Just drop into the lab when you go out.”

He answered in the affirmative and practically sprinted out of the room. Your smile dropped as you turned to look at Iwaizumi’s grim visage. He dropped into the chair and sighed. “I know what you’re going to say. That putting yourself in danger isn’t ideal, but it’s the only choice to stand a chance of finding the killer. And that we’re getting close to the deadline. I know all of that, but it doesn’t make me feel better about it.”

You slumped into the chair opposite him, rubbing your temples. “What I was going to say was that if I’m right about this, someone will have to go through hours of security footage from the club. They have cameras on the street outside. We need to find a person who routinely visits the club, particularly on the days our victims turned up. As for the other thing…”

He held up a hand. “I’m coming with you. No arguments.”

You pursed your lips. “Fine, but bring Tooru with you. It will look strange if you turn up alone.”

Iwaizumi’s face turned hard, but he didn’t disagree, which meant he would do it. You turned your attention to the computer and nudged him. “Come on, I don’t have much time, and there’s a lot of video to get through. Let’s try and go through as much as we can.”

He looked at you suspiciously. “Why, are you going somewhere?”

You paused for a moment before answering. “Home. I need to dress like I want someone to pick me up and throw me onto a bed.”

Iwaizumi grimaced at the image. “Do you? Want someone to, erm, throw you on a bed?”

You bit your lip, thinking of a pair of whiskey eyes and a certain smile. “I don’t know,” you replied honestly.

He looked up briefly in prayer and clicked on a folder. “This is going to be a long day.”

* * *

 

Kuroo was in the process of pulling on his blazer when Suga sidled up to him. He lifted an eyebrow. “What is it?”

Suga looked at him thoughtfully for a moment. “It’s about the detective. Why are you so interested in her?”

He adjusted a cuff and turned to look at the silver haired man. “Why are you asking?”

Suga glanced away. “She always looks haunted. As if the ghosts won’t let her sleep. And I was wondering if that was what you thought as well.”

Kuroo considered his statement, letting the words sink into his own impressions of you. It wasn’t far off – Suga was perceptive, after all – but it barely scratched the surface. What he’d seen that first day wasn’t just someone worried about catching a killer. It was the ink-black abyss of someone who felt too deeply, took each death to heart as their own. Your face may have been a still pond, but the waters underneath were far from calm. There was a world of pain folded into your fragile frame, and he would happily take all of it if you would let him. But he didn’t say any of that aloud.

“I just want to make her smile,” he said. “A real smile.”

Suga’s reply was cut off as the door clicked open. “Oh, it’s the detective,” observed Kenma.

Kuroo turned around with a sly greeting on his lips, but the words died as he took in your appearance. You dipped your head as you entered the room, clad in a curve-hugging burgundy dress. It was a dress any woman might own, cut in a classic pencil shape with no ornamentation whatsoever, but it ranked highly on Kuroo’s list of devastating clothes that should have been banned for public safety. And your hair. The remaining shreds of his sanity were undone by the long, soft waves of it, swept alluringly over one shoulder. He suddenly wished there was a bed in the vicinity so he could find out exactly what those silky tresses would feel like between his fingers.

Tendou’s eyes had opened wide in newfound respect. Bokuto and Noya had identical owlish expressions on their faces. He found his voice when you glided over to his position in the room. “Good evening, ___-san.” The words came out with a provocative huskiness.

Kuroo saw your expressive eyes widen slightly. He probably looked like he was going to lick every inch of you and enjoy every moment of it, but he didn’t care. It was true, and you weren’t playing fair anyway. He was going to make this as difficult for you as it was for him. You inhaled sharply and stepped back a little. “Y-you too, Kuroo-san.”

Suga beamed like a proud parent. “You look lovely, ___-san! You should dress like this more often.”

You gave him a polite smile. “Thank you, but my job doesn’t really permit it.” Kuroo’s eyes were half-lidded in thought when you glanced at him. “It would be difficult to run in a dress.”

Bokuto strolled over, Noya trailing behind him. “That’s too bad, I think you look great. Speaking of which, I’ve been wanting to ask…” He leaned closer with an air of conspiracy. “What is the coolest thing you’ve heard or seen working for the police?”

You blinked at him. “What?” Kuroo almost laughed out loud as he realized where this was heading, but he settled for smirking instead.

Noya piped up. “You know, stuff like, “You may abandon your body but you must preserve your honour!” or “Justice will prevail!” Stuff like that.”

Bokuto nodded along fervently. Tsukishima’s eyes bored holes into Noya’s back. “Wasn’t the first one something a samurai said?”

You pretended to think about it. “Well, the best line I’ve ever heard was probably…”

Noya and Bokuto tensed in anticipation. Even Kenma looked over with mild interest. Kuroo was containing his amusement with great difficulty. You seemed to come to a conclusion.

“It was probably when the chief said, “You can go home early today.” The words “I brought you coffee” are a close second.”

He couldn’t help it anymore. Kuroo burst into laughter at the deflated looks on their faces, shoulders shaking with the effort of holding it in. Suga snickered in the back, and even Kiyoko had to hide a smile. Your eyes glowed with sparkling warmth as you regarded Kuroo.

“You don’t have to laugh so hard, you know,” grumbled Bokuto. “I was just curious.”

You took pity on him. “I’m sorry, but there really isn’t anything I can remember. You should ask Hajime, he’s probably heard better stories.”

Kuroo lifted an eyebrow at the implication of closeness. Something dangerous stirred in the depths. “Hajime?”

“My partner in the force. He’ll be here shortly.” Your expression gentled a little. “I think he’d enjoy meeting all of you. Under better circumstances.”

He decided to examine his feelings about this mystery person later. There were other things to focus on. “And what is your plan for the evening, lady Alice?”

You shifted a bit closer to him, allowing Kiyoko to cross the room. Kuroo’s gaze caught on the winged lines of your collarbones, the brush of a chandelier earring against the curve of your neck. He slid his hands into his pockets to resist the urge to touch. You spoke, oblivious to the desire coursing through him.

“I was hoping you would tell me, Kuroo-san. The killer has probably seen me come and go several times already, so we will have to head upstairs to the bar to be seen together. After that, what happens is up to you…” You trailed off as you realized what you’d just said.

His smile was wide, the triumphant grin of a hunting cat just before it leapt on its prey. “If you insist. I will endeavour to make it…believable.”

Your face flushed slightly, as if you had just understood what you were getting into. Kuroo dipped his head closer to yours, feeling sparks jump off his skin from the proximity. His eyes locked with your widened ones, his gaze searching the depths for a hint of the self you kept hidden. “Do you have something to keep yourself safe with?”

You stared at him for a moment, caught in the golden threads of his spell. “Ah. Yes. I’m armed, if that’s what you mean.”

In unison, everyone’s eyes fell to the fitted material of the dress. Suga tilted his head. “Not to doubt you, detective, but where could you possibly hide anything?”

Tendou was deep in thought. “In your purse? Or…” His gaze drifted to your neckline. Kuroo narrowed his eyes at the redhead in a reminder that he was very much capable of violence.

You rolled your eyes at the lot of them. “Stop wondering about it, Noya and Bokuto-san. Of course I can’t hide anything in there. And purses can be snatched or stolen. No, I keep my pistol here.”

Bokuto choked on his drink as you hiked up the skirt of your dress to reveal a slim garter holster. Kuroo felt the embers of an internal fire fanned into a raging blaze, the kind that reduced whole forests to grey ashes. His eyes stayed fixed on the smooth expanse of skin as you pointed to what seemed like an endless length of leg.

“It’s easier to draw and conceal,” you explained, as if you hadn’t just launched a thousand of Kuroo’s darkest fantasies.

“We should get going,” he murmured. He shot a warning glance at Tendou and the rest. “Before this spirals out of control.”

He smoothly ushered you out of the room before anyone could say anything. He stepped out of the elevator and pivoted to hold out his hand. “Shall we?”

You swallowed once and nodded before resting your palm in his. He smiled like the contact hadn’t sent a jolt of sensation down his arm and laced his fingers with yours. Kuroo strode to one of the tables in the bar and waited till you were seated before leaning back in a chair. Akaashi mysteriously made wine appear from somewhere. He took a sip before speaking.

“Normally, I would talk to an Alice, get to know them better before helping them decide what they need. I think you should do the same, ___-san.”

You frowned a little, but didn’t object. “What would you like to know?”

“Tell me about the tattoo on your shoulder.” He’d noticed the intricate ink-work when you entered the lift.

“Hmm, it’s not something I’m really proud of.” You swirled the ruby liquid in the glass, eyes cast down. “During college, before I decided to take the tests, I went through a rough phase. I can’t really pinpoint why, but I fell into bad company. I was part of a gang, and I got into a lot of fights. One time someone tried to put a knife into me. It was- let’s call it an eye-opening experience. My friends pulled me out of a dark place, and helped me become stable again. So the tattoo, it doesn’t mean anything in particular. It’s one of those markers everyone in the gang used to have.”

If you thought that would put him off, you were sadly mistaken. Kuroo’s eyes glowed in the semi-darkness as he leaned forward, interest piqued again.

“Is that why you feel so strongly about the cases? Because you were on that side once?”

Your hands tightened around the stem of the wine glass. “Yes,” you whispered. “How did you know?”

Kuroo reached out to your cheek, fingertips almost brushing your skin. “I-“

“___.” A solid form insinuated itself between you and Kuroo. He looked up to a fierce glower. “Is this guy bothering you?”

You collected yourself and stood to pull at the newcomer’s elbow. “Hajime, this is hardly the definition of undercover. And stop trying to intimidate Kuroo-san.”

Kuroo settled back into his easy-going persona with a brief glance at the brunette man behind your partner. He considered your relationship with Iwaizumi as you made introductions. He couldn’t sense anything but a fierce protectiveness from the two men towards you. Between them, however, was a different story. He came back to the present to hear Iwaizumi’s threat as you discussed something with Oikawa.

“Don’t think I won’t break a couple of bones if you hurt her. That idiot she was engaged to already messed her up good. I don’t need you adding to it.”

Kuroo narrowed in on the information like a hawk. “Engaged?” The dark tendrils were back with a new life.

The cop growled. “I never did like that slick bastard much. Didn’t even have the courtesy to break off their engagement in person. Between this case, that moron, and the stress of the next victim, I don’t think she’s had much sleep in a while.”

“I see. Thank you for telling me.” Kuroo couldn’t understand why anyone would want to let go of someone so fascinating, but the nameless fiancé’s loss was his gain. He looked over with lazy interest as you returned to the table. Iwaizumi gave him one last loaded glare before addressing you.

“Oikawa and I’ll be around, keeping an eye on anything suspicious. Be careful.”

You nodded and they left, Iwaizumi scowling at one of Oikawa’s cheerful quips. Kuroo held an elbow out to you. “There’s music tonight in the other room. Would you like to dance?”

You took his arm warily, the warmth from your grip filtering through his sleeve. “Can I say no?”

His hand slid over yours to stroke a thumb over your knuckles. Kuroo smiled at your sudden intake of breath. “You could, but then I’d have to work very hard to convince you otherwise.”

At that, you gave in, allowing him to direct you towards an elegantly appointed room filled with people swaying to dreamy melodies. He stopped near the corner of the dance floor and pulled you towards him with a gentle tug. You bumped into his chest, surprised, but automatically linked your hands around his neck when he settled his hands on the dip of your waist. His head bent towards your upturned face.

“We never got to finish our conversation earlier. My next question, Miss Alice.” He savoured this feeling of closeness, of being close enough to touch. You watched him with a starlit gaze as he continued. “How did you decide I wasn’t the killer?”

He saw a hint of amusement curl your lips. “Because you answered the question about the neurotoxin. Why acknowledge it and risk being found out?”

“I knew that would come in handy someday. Kenma should see me now.” He noted with pleasure that your mouth had curved up further. “And the last question. What do you want most?”

His heart thumped as your eyes darkened and your gaze dipped to his mouth. “What do you mean?”

Kuroo leaned forward until your noses were nearly touching. Your hands tightened on his shoulders in reaction. “I meant,” he breathed in coaxing suggestion, “your heart’s deepest desire. The one you’ve hidden away from the world. Tell me, so I can make it reality.”

You were silent for a long time, unshed tears glimmering at the fringe of your lashes. Then, so softly he almost didn’t catch it: “I want to feel beautiful.” Kuroo pulled you closer until your hips touched. Your head tipped to hide your face in his neck. “I don’t mean that I want to look pretty. I just want the feeling back. Of wearing a pair of nice shoes and feeling good about yourself. The one where you can go out and have a good time because nothing is waiting to guilt you afterwards. I want the feeling of being beautiful when you think the world is a worthwhile place. I want…the feeling of being beautiful because I’m loved and each day has something to look forward to.”

“Then,” he brushed your lips with his own, hands sliding over your back, “let me make it happen. Let me show you that you can be more than beautiful.”

You swayed closer, mouth close to pressing into his. “Kuroo-san, I-“ The soft heat and velvet connection enveloping the both of you abruptly vanished as you caught sight of something behind him and paled. “K-Kenji?”

Kuroo summoned a well of diminishing patience and turned to look the tall figure who had made you panic. The other man radiated a suave confidence that came with success, brown hair rakishly draped over his eyes. Kuroo had never hated anyone before – hatred was such a strong emotion – but that was what he felt as he took in the way your soul splintered.

Your hand gripped his hard when you noticed a woman accompanying Futakuchi. “Of course.” Your voice was low with fury. “Of course he had someone else.”

Kuroo tilted his head, eyes burning with a golden fire. “Is this your ex-fiancé?”

You gritted your teeth as you caught a ring flashing in the light. “I honestly don’t know who he is anymore.”

Kuroo grabbed your elbow as you made to leave, and pulled you into his embrace again. “I’m going to start making that desire a reality now,” he said. Then he did what he’d been wanting to do all evening and kissed you.

* * *

One moment, you were trying to pick up the pieces of your shattered self, wincing at the cuts left by so many jagged edges. Futakuchi’s appearance had sliced through the last thread of hope and left you wandering in a dark forest of your own making. Then Kuroo’s lips met yours, the forest washed away in a wave of light, and all you could think about was how there wasn’t enough of you touching him.

His lips were firm against yours, shaping your mouth in a honeyed kiss, one hand tangling in your hair to pull your head back. Any remaining rationality fled when his tongue flicked up into your mouth, teasing you with his spicy-sweet taste. You responded, wanting more of the enchantment, more of him. You clutched at his unyielding arms like they were a lifeline.

Kuroo lifted his head and gave you a smile that was part amusement, part wonder and all unbridled desire. “____. Tell me what you want from me.”

Something in you went weak at the sound of your name. Your body became a pliant curve against his. “Everything,” you replied. “I want all of it.”

His eyes flashed with lightning, and you found yourself slammed against a wall in a shadowy corner. Your dress rode up as Kuroo pinned you against the dark wood, your legs cinching around his waist. You slipped a hand up into his shirt as he rubbed slow circles into your inner thigh, expertly stoking the flames of your arousal. “Be careful what you wish for, Alice.” His voice was rough with yearning. “You might get what you ask for.”

Your palm slowly drifted over the hard planes of his stomach, the muscles flexing under your touch. His breathing became laboured as you skimmed the edge of his trousers. “Then kiss me again.”

Kuroo complied with a grin, and set about knocking down every wall you had built up to guard yourself. His long, leisurely kiss was accompanied by a gentle touch tracing down your spine, drawing lazy patterns into the small of your back. The kiss turned hotter, more reckless when you shifted and your hips aligned with his. A soft moan fell from your lips as your centre pressed against the insistent length of his hardness.

He rocked up against you, rubbing delicious friction into your core through the layers of fabric. Kuroo cursed quietly. “Damn, you feel – nngh - too good.”

“More,” you panted, wanting his clever hands everywhere. “Touch me more.” You kissed him hard to emphasize your point.

He spanned your ribs with his hand, tantalizing you with the possibility of a caress. “Only if you call me by my name.” One of his thumbs brushed over your lower lip.

You could barely articulate, drowning in the sea of sensation he was stirring up. “Please. Tetsurou.”

Kuroo froze for a moment before his gaze turned into molten gold and his lips crashed into yours. You got a moment’s respite as he lifted his head, which quickly disappeared as his teeth began branding your throat with his possession. Needing to hold onto something before the world exploded, you sank your fingers into his dark hair, tugging at the sable-soft locks. He rumbled in satisfaction and trailed his touch over the edge of your neckline.

“____,” he purred, “so exquisite, but so lonely. Let me be yours.”

You could barely think, or remember your own name. It felt like you were shaped for the express purpose of being in his arms, and agreement was the only option. “Yes,” you breathed. “Anything for you.”

His smile lit up constellations in the deepest parts of your soul, shedding light on previously unexplored places. Everything you had ever felt for anyone paled in comparison to this overwhelming vastness. You would have been afraid, but it was hard to tear your gaze away from his beauty. Kuroo pressed his lips to the hollow of your throat. “Then it’s a promise.”

You moved to seal the bond with a kiss, place your heart in his hand for safekeeping, but someone cleared their throat loudly. “Ahem. Sorry to interrupt, but that might be enough convincing for one evening.”

You lifted your eyes to see a very unapologetic Oikawa waving at you. Iwaizumi was trying his best to look away. Reality gradually sank in with painful claws. Your already flushed face heated up some more. Kuroo gently set you down and gave them an exasperated look. “Can it really not wait?”

Your partner shook his head, face grave. “We have to get back to the station, now. It’s important.”

You shook yourself out of the pleasure-tinted haze and looked at Iwaizumi. “What’s wrong?”

His answer made your breath catch in your chest. “A suspect has been arrested for Yamane Akemi’s murder.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, this is like, well over 4k words, what is happening to my life.  
> Someone restrain me. This banter stuff shouldn't be so entertaining to write.


	6. Alice's evidence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, just for fun, try guessing what Kuroo's day job is before you start reading. Then tell me if you got it right.

When you got back to the station with Oikawa’s jacket draped around your shoulders, Kageyama was pacing nervously in front of door. He snapped to attention at the sight of Iwaizumi and nodded to the interrogation room. “He’s in there. I thought I’d wait until you arrived to ask any questions.”

You looked carefully at his face. It was drawn tight with tension, and he looked pale. “When was the last time you ate something, Kageyama-kun?”

His shoulders hunched. “A while ago. Would you like to hear the details first?”

Iwaizumi rubbed his neck. “Yeah. Where did you even find this guy?”

“Yamane-san lived in a residential area bordering on some suspect neighbourhoods. I was looking around there when I saw the coat on someone in the street. His name is Suzuki Yuuto, and he’s homeless. He doesn’t have a concrete alibi for any of the murders – he says he can’t remember. Semi-san is testing the blood stains on the coat right now.”

You looked at your partner. He nodded. “I’ve got this one. Kageyama, you’re coming with me.”

You went into the adjacent room to watch them through the two-way mirror. Suzuki was a small man, his eyes bloodshot and hair lanky with grease. His hands trembled constantly. Iwaizumi and Kageyama strode through the door, the latter opting to stand stiffly by the wall while your friend sat down on the folding chair.

“Suzuki-san, is it? I’m Iwaizumi, one of the detectives investigating the Alice killings. I’d like to ask you a few questions.”

There was no response. Suzuki just hunched in on himself and muttered something intelligible. You frowned.

Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow. “Alright, I’ll take that as a yes. Where were you on the night of the third murder?”

Your hands clenched on the edge of the panel as Suzuki shook his head frantically. Something was wrong.

Your partner frowned and rolled up his sleeves. “This is important. Do you understand that you could go to jail for this? Answer me. Where were you that night?”

Kageyama watched with narrow eyes as the suspect finally answered. “I don’t know,” he whispered. “But he does.”

Iwaizumi leaned forward, gaze sharp. “Who? The person who gave you the coat?”

Suzuki shivered and pulled the worn wool of his scarf closer. “It was a demon. A black man. He had no face.”

Kageyama blinked in confusion. “What does that mean?” You saw Iwaizumi come to the same conclusions you had after glancing at Suzuki’s hands. He leaned back, face bleak with resignation.

The drifter kept talking, unaware of his surroundings. “He said I had to leave the court. So I did. Rule 42.”

You tilted your head, deep in thought. Realizing this wasn’t going anywhere useful, Iwaizumi stood up. “Kageyama. Let this man go. We’re done for the day.”

“H-huh?” Blue eyes widened in surprise. “Why? Don’t we need to question him some more?”

“We’re not going to get anything out of him. And he’s clearly not the killer. Look at his arms. Hypodermic needle marks. He’s been a drug addict for a long time now, and his hands aren’t steady enough to achieve the precision we saw on the victims. There’s no way he’s behind the killings.”

Kageyama deflated visibly. “I-I see.” He was still drooping when they exited the room to meet you in the office. You raised an eyebrow at Iwaizumi.

“Too bad you didn’t get to use your good-cop, bad-cop routine, Hajime.”

He gave you a look that could have melted rocks. You rested a hand on Kageyama’s shoulder, making him flinch in surprise. “Kageyama-kun, you did a good job. There’s nothing more any of us can do today, so let’s just all go home and catch up on some much needed sleep, okay?”

He sighed. “Yeah. I guess. Sorry to drag you out all the way here for nothing, ____-san.”

“But it wasn’t useless effort, Kageyama-kun. We actually learned something thanks to you.”

A hopeful puppy came back to life, tail thumping warily. “You did?”

Would it be rude to cuddle him? Probably. “Several things. We now know the murderer probably wore a mask of some sort. Hence Suzuki’s assertion that he has no face. We already knew he was wearing dark colours. The perpetrator apparently plans ahead. He knew he might need a decoy one day, if not at least an outright scapegoat. So we have the coat and Suzuki.”

“It’s the other thing that bothers me,” rumbled Iwaizumi. “Rule 42.”

You thought back to the original books, which you now knew from cover to cover thanks to this one case. “All persons more than a mile high to leave the court. It’s the oldest rule in the book.”

The puppy furrowed its brows cutely. “High? It doesn’t mean that kind of high, does it?”

You saw Iwaizumi’s shoulders shake all of a sudden. You could barely hold back your own laughter. “Kageyama-kun, you really have the most unexpected way of thinking. In this case, I doubt it’s referring to Suzuki’s addiction. I’d hazard a guess that the context is more important.”

“Judgement,” pronounced Iwaizumi. “That statement is made during a trial in the story. Also, it notably convicts Alice for something she didn’t really do.”

“So the victims are being judged,” concluded the rookie cop. “But for what?”

You shrugged tiredly. “Being too close to the club? I don’t know. It’s not something any of us can figure out right now. I think we’ve made all the progress we can here for tonight.”

You waited till Kageyama had said his goodbyes and then slumped onto your friend, drained beyond belief. He reluctantly patted your back. “Are you okay?”

You almost laughed at his rigid posture. He never was much good at comforting anyone. You buried your face in his shoulder, as if that would make the tears stop. “No I’m not. I’ve never been this emotional before, but this case has taken everything from me, and then some. I don’t think I can be strong anymore, and that scares me. I’m too close to everything, especially him.”

He didn’t ask who you were talking about. Iwaizumi sighed irritably after a long silence. “I told you not to use me as a mop. Sheesh, I’m no good at this. Look, you don’t have to be strong. It’s fine. I can manage for the both of us. So just take a day off and breathe. We’ll get this guy. I know we will.”

Your chest eased slightly, loosening the heavy chains choking you with inevitable sureness. You wondered how Iwaizumi had such unwavering faith, after all you’d both seen. You could see why Oikawa couldn’t give up on him. “Hajime, you actually said something nice for once. I’m worried about you. Are you coming down with something?”

“Shut up, brat. You’re one to talk after turning my shirt into a handkerchief.”

You wiped your eyes with a sleeve and took a deep breath to steady yourself. “I feel a little better now, so thanks. I’m planning to take the security footage from the club with me, so do you want to go over the rest of it tomorrow? We could meet at Tooru’s house, since I have to return his jacket.”

“Yeah sure. Though…I tell you to take a day off, and your idea is to spend it all watching blurry videos? Kageyama would feel betrayed after you sent him home to rest.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’ve never been very good at taking my own advice. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He nodded and told you to text him when you got back home. You did, curling up on your bed afterwards to stare at the addition of a new contact on your phone. Kuroo’s name dominated the screen in sharp-edged letters, conveying none of the complexities, warmth or danger of the person it belonged to.

_In case you want to call on your promise, Alice._

You contemplated the tangle of your emotions. Was it the girl from long ago, the one with a reckless streak in her blood, that led to you pressed up against him in a bar? Or was it other girl, the one that wove lonely shadows into her hair, that tied your heartstrings to him in some cruel twist? You were still thinking about it when you drifted into an uneasy sleep.

* * *

 

When your phone buzzed to life the next day, you jolted awake and realized the sun had been up for a long time. Cursing yourself for not being a vampire that could stay awake forever, you picked up the call to hear a disgustingly chipper Oikawa on the other end.

“____-chan! Are you all bright-eyed and bushy tailed yet or do you still feel like Armageddon is a sensible theory?”

“Tooru,” you said with utmost politeness, “I’d like to gently drop you in a tank full of starving sharks.”

“That’s a no then. Iwa-chan texted and said you guys were coming over. I haven’t had time to go shopping though, so can I ask you to pick up something from the bakery?”

You tipped your head back and groaned. “Fine, but you better have coffee. Otherwise I’m disowning you.”

“Can do, ___-chan. I’ll leave the door open, just come in. See ya!”

You showered, dressed and considered your next course of action as you walked to Oikawa’s house. The surveillance footage was pretty much all you had to go on at this point. Unless the killer decided to up and change their schedule, you had three more days till something happened. The ideal situation would be one where you figured out the perp’s identity before you ended up eye to knife with them, but it steadily seemed like the only outcome. You sorted through the things you knew so far, and the picture was still an impressionist painting with no clear lines. A voice in the back of your mind chimed that perhaps there were other, equally important things you should be contemplating, but you shoved that voice down with practised ease.

You put your poker face on before opening the front door to Oikawa’s apartment, noting Iwaizumi’s shoes in the hallway. He lived closer, so it was no surprise he was here first. You made your way to the kitchen, pausing at the sound of a heated conversation.

“When are you going to tell ___-chan that you’re not okay either?” Oikawa’s voice was clipped with fury.

“Never,” came the reply. Iwaizumi sounded about a thousand years old. “I’m not adding to her problems. She’s got enough of them without having to worry about me.”

“This is what you always do! Why can’t you let us help you, Iwa-chan? You don’t have to take everything on by yourself. If ___-chan knew you hadn’t slept in three weeks, she’d help me hold you down so we could sedate you.”

You sucked in a breath quietly. You hadn’t realized Iwaizumi’s insomnia had flared up again. Guilt unfolded dark wings in your chest and crowed triumphantly.

“Enough,” snapped Iwaizumi. “I don’t want to have this discussion right now. I get that you’re worried, but-”

Oikawa’s laugh was bitter. “Worried? Is that all you think I am? ___-chan was right. We’ve been avoiding everything for too long.” There was a shuffle as he moved forward. A slight thump followed. Iwaizumi had probably backed up into the counter. Oikawa’s tone was laced with something dark and uncomfortably like longing when he spoke. “I’m not worried about you, Hajime. I’m in love with you. And that means I’m tearing up inside watching you work yourself to death.”

You held your breath and inched forward, waiting for Iwaizumi’s response. He sounded as breathless as you felt when he replied. “That’s – I don’t – “

“It’s a simple question. Either you like me back or you don’t. Which is it, Iwa-chan?”

You mentally applauded this newfound, aggressive Oikawa and wondered if Iwaizumi would continue his block-headed charade. You could hear the harsh exhale of his breath in the watching silence, as if the universe was holding its breath in anticipation. He finally came to a decision.

“You know what, fine. I’ll answer your question.” You heard a sudden rustle of clothing.

Oikawa lost all his confidence. “Wha- what are you doing, I- mmph!”

You carefully peeked around the corner and did not feel an ounce of surprise at how passionately Iwaizumi was kissing Oikawa. Your brown-haired friend’s hands were frozen mid-gesture, as if he didn’t know what to do with them. Iwaizumi kept his firm grip on Oikawa’s collar, pulling the latter’s head down. After a moment, Oikawa responded, tipping his head to the side, and sliding his arms around your partner.

You ducked back into the hall and let them have their moment. A wave of relief washed over you, the kind that followed the conclusion of a decade long telenovela with impossible emotional twists. You perked up at the sound of Iwaizumi’s rough voice. Oikawa seemed to be panting. “The answer is yes, damn it. I don’t want to, but I can’t think about anyone else.”

You cheered silently and waited. Given their pent-up frustrations of many years, they would probably end up all over each other again. You hoped they did, because it would make revenge all the sweeter. Oikawa didn’t disappoint.

“Then don’t. I don’t like to share, Iwa-chan.” Iwaizumi made a muffled noise of surprise as Oikawa’s lips met his. You peered into the kitchen again. Their hands were at each other’s hips now. It was the perfect moment.

You made sure to enter with a bang. “Tooru, I brought your milk bread- Oh my.”

They flew apart like scalded cats, and tried to look casual but failed miserably. Their cheeks were flushed and Oikawa’s usually perfect hair looked as if he’d tried to scrub the floor with it. Iwaizumi hacked up a cough to cover up the fact that he was breathing hard.

“Dear me,” you said blandly, “did I interrupt something?” You let your eyes rest on a dark bruise blossoming on Oikawa’s neck.

He turned the colour of a posy in spring and pulled at the collar of his shirt. “I was, erm, trying to get something from the shelf. Yeah. ‘Cause Iwa-chan’s too short.”

Iwaizumi shot him a look of pure wrath, but kept silent. You raised an eyebrow. “Really? I thought for a moment Hajime was teaching you the basics of frisking someone when I saw his hands up your shirt.”

They both choked and turned a spectacular shade of red. You wondered where their minds had gone with idea. Well, let them marinate in their frustration. Iwaizumi cleared his throat. “Did you bring the stuff for us to go through?”

You patted your tote. “It’s here. I also brought your jacket, Tooru. Thanks for lending it to me. I didn’t realize you used the same perfume as Hajime, by the way.”

Oikawa’s eyes widened to the size of teacups. Iwaizumi was suddenly examining the refrigerator with great interest. “Hmm. Interesting,” murmured Oikawa speculatively.

“So are you two official now? I don’t want to be that clueless friend who makes your dates awkward.” You looked at them expectantly.

Iwaizumi sighed. “You could have left us alone for a while longer if you were eavesdropping,” grumbled Oikawa.

“Firstly, you are the genius who told me your front door was open, you shouldn’t blame me for hearing anything. Second, did you just expect me to stand there patiently while you two planned your honeymoon?”

“Don’t give him ideas,” growled your partner. “I haven’t committed to anything yet.”

Oikawa gave him a patented look of betrayed hurt. “How cruel, Iwa-chan. And you said I was the only one for you.”

You waved away whatever retort Iwaizumi was going to make. “Flirt at your own leisure later. Right now, we eat and try to get something done.”

They grudgingly followed you to the table and stretched out on the chairs as your laptop blinked to life. Iwaizumi spoke around a mouthful of croissant. “How much more footage do we have to go through?”

You glanced at the way their legs brushed against each other’s with a tinge of envy. “A few more hours, I guess.”

Time dragged on frustratingly as you pored over what felt like endless lengths of surveillance video. You gave up when you noticed Iwaizumi’s gaze linger on Oikawa’s glasses for about the hundredth time. “Okay, I’ve had enough. Tooru, if you’re okay with it, I’m going to give our kohai this address and tell him to come over. Then both of you can go somewhere else and whisper sweet nothings to each other.”

Oikawa nodded cheerfully. “My eternal gratitude, ___-chan.” Iwaizumi flushed and made some weak protests.

You brushed them all aside. “Kageyama-kun has a knack for this. And you need a break more than I do.”

Oikawa frowned. “Why does that name sound familiar?” You shrugged and texted Kageyama, who promised to be there in a few minutes. After some cajoling, you pushed them out of the house and ordered them to spend some time talking. When the hall was silent again, you found yourself staring at your phone again, the temptation to call Kuroo burning strong. You rubbed your thumb over the phone absently, weighing the pros and cons. It wasn’t until the line clicked that you realized you had dialled him anyway.

You cursed yourself and put the phone to your ear. “Hello,” came that salt and caramel voice. Your eyes closed as warmth spread through your limbs. “Kuroo Tetsurou speaking.”

* * *

 

Kuroo had just finished coaxing a difficult client out of some very poor life choices when the phone rang. He sighed a little and answered the call. He turned extremely still when he realized who it was.

“Kuroo-san?” You sounded apologetic. “I’m sorry about calling you all of a sudden. It was an accident.”

If he had a tail, it would have flicked in expectation. “Hmm, then I would say it was a happy accident.” He leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs. “Did you have something you wanted to talk about?”

You hesitated. “Are you busy?” He looked up at a sharp rap. Yaku frowned at him through the glass door, pointing to his watch. Kuroo shook his head. Yaku frowned, but left to deal with whatever it was. You continued. “I don’t want to disturb you.”

Too late for that, he thought. You had rearranged the shape of his life from the first day. “No, I’m taking a break. Tell me anything.”

You hummed in thought, the sound brushing over his awareness. “I just had the thought that I’ve never seen you in daylight. I wonder what that’s like.”

Some part of him wanted to revel in the victory that your thoughts stretched beyond the shaded alcoves of the night. He adjusted his grip on the phone and began scrawling on a memo-pad. “Not very different, I think. Maybe I’m more serious.”

“Because of your job?” He wasn’t surprised you knew about it, but he did wonder what you thought of it. “I read in your file that you’re a criminal lawyer.”

“Taking an interest in my life, detective? I’m flattered.” He laughed a little at the blush he could almost hear over the phone. “Does it bother you that we’re natural enemies?”

“No. I think…” You trailed off. “I don’t know what I think, honestly. Everything about you confuses me. I keep losing sight of things when you’re around.”

Kuroo’s heart faltered for a moment, and then picked up its speed. “I’m glad to hear that,” he smirked. “It would have been massively unfair if I was the only one suffering.”

“Kuroo-san,” you said softly, “I can’t do this. Even if I solved the case and you were no longer implicated in it, I was engaged until a few days ago. What kind of woman would it make me if I just moved on to someone else?”

His, he thought. You would be his, in every way that mattered. “The heartbroken kind. It’s not unusual for anyone in your position to seek comfort.”

“But it is strange to fall in lov-“ He stopped breathing entirely as you braked at the slip. “Ah, what am I even saying?”

Kuroo waited a moment before speaking. There was one time when he’d crept up on a butterfly in a garden to touch it. The trick to catching a butterfly was patience. You moved your hand toward it slowly, so slowly that it didn’t think to move. He had managed to touch its wing, a delicate leaf of fragile loveliness, before it fluttered away. He remembered that sensation of vulnerable beauty now.

“___”. He loved saying your name, loved the way you sucked in a breath when he said it. “When I said I wanted to make your wish a reality, I was serious. A true wish doesn’t come with a clause or a price tag. I want you to let me love you whole-heartedly. I don’t expect anything in return. One day, only if you want to, decide on your response. But until then, I’ll wait. No matter how long it takes.”

“Kuroo-san, I-“ Your voice came perilously close to a sob. “You can’t just say such things. I won’t be able to resist.”

“I would recommend that you don’t. It would be in both of our best interests.” His voice dropped to husky suggestion. “Would you like me to prove it?”

You breathed out slowly. “Maybe,” you murmured. “I have to go now. I’ll see you later, Kuroo-san.”

He set the phone down after you hung up, unable to contain a grin. You hadn’t refused him outright, and Kuroo would take whatever chance he could. He looked down at the absent-minded doodle he’d scribbled on the paper. A jewelled crescent moon curled around a small sun, replicating your tattoo. He traced the pattern with his finger, imagining it on the softness of your skin.

“It’s a promise, ___.”

* * *

Kageyama groaned and rubbed his eyes. “We really should have found something by now, but there’s nothing.”

You rested your chin on your hand, equally disheartened. The both of you had gone back and forth over the evidence, which glared from two screens like it was advertising your failure. “I am so tempted to quit my job and just do anything else but this.” An image of a mangled face floated up, taunting you with the impossibility of finding this killer.

“It’s a riddle with no answer.” Kageyama drooped until his fringe brushed the table. “I don’t know how you managed for so long, ___-san.”

“It was devastating,” you said quietly, “the first two times. And each new attack tore apart something in me. But I also realized that every time he killed, he gave away something. So I’m going to use it against him.”

He nodded and looked back at the screen. “I joined the force because I wanted to be useful. To mean something. But now that I think about it, if that comes at the cost of someone else’s life, I’d rather be forgotten.” You were searching for a response to that profundity when he leaned forward and squinted at something.

“Wait a minute.” Kageyama aligned both laptops paused on videos from separate days and pointed to the same spot on both. “Isn’t that the same person?”

You examined the figure. Now that you thought about it, the shiny blonde hair seemed familiar. You rewound to a previous recording. “There they are again.”

Kageyama pulled up another video and nearly hopped in excitement. “And again! This person turns up on the same days of the week, at roughly the same time.” He quickly tapped a few keys and went through a series of recordings dating prior to the discovery of each victim. You exhaled sharply as the distinctive golden hair turned up again and again, each time on the fringes of the camera so they went unnoticed.

“Zoom in for me, Kageyama-kun.” You snapped a picture of it and sent it to your friend in the records department with an urgent request for an identification. “We should hear back from them in a couple of minutes.”

Kageyama was vibrating with nervous energy. “This doesn’t seem like a coincidence, does it? But what about the killer being male? This person is female. A short one at that,” he added.

“I hate to say it, but the one video have we only shows someone exiting Yamane Akemi’s apartment with a garbage bag. The killer could very well be a woman with an accomplice. That would explain some things, and complicate others. And she might not be a perp, but a witness. Innocent until guilty, remember?” You hoped it wasn’t the first case, because it meant two dangerous people were on the loose. Either way, this girl needed to be found.

The front door swung open as Oikawa and Iwaizumi walked in. “___-chan, I’m back with your favorite-“ Oikawa abruptly stopped as he noticed Kageyama. You saw the exact moment they had the horrific realization they knew each other.

“Tobio-chan?!” Oikawa bristled like a defensive cat. “What are you doing here?”

“O-O-Oikawa senpai! I should be asking you that!” Kageyama seemed to be preparing for a fight.

You and Iwaizumi looked between them with mild interest. Iwaizumi suddenly snapped his fingers. “Ah, I thought you looked familiar. You’re that guy from high school, right?”

They both snapped in unison at Iwaizumi. “Don’t bring that up!”

“Curiouser and curiouser.” You nudged Iwaizumi. “What happened in high school?”

He grinned. “You don’t want to know. It involved some underage drinking, a stuffed sheep and a brilliant decision to play the King’s Game. Best day of my life.”

“You can say that because you weren’t the one traumatized for life, Iwa-chan!”

Kageyama looked haunted. “There are some things you can’t unsee.” He rubbed his arms to ward off a chill.

You were prevented from probing further when your phone pinged. “They’ve identified her. Let’s go find Hitoka Yachi.”

The club was unusually packed that evening, a crush of bodies taking up every inch of space. You blew out a breath and looked at Iwaizumi and Kageyama. “Well, she should be here somewhere, since this is the day she usually turns up here. Let’s split up and search.”

You made your way through the crowds, briefly nodding to Akaashi at the bar. You had reached the farthest end of the room when a voice emanated from nowhere. “Ah, detective. Are you searching for something?”

You pivoted to find the Rabbit at your elbow, a hint of a smile peeking through the shadows. “Someone,” you said, holding up a photo of Yachi. “Have you seen her?”

He considered the image before nodding once. “She’s over there.” He raised an elegant hand in the direction of a door. You caught sight of a blonde bob and wove through the mass of people. When you were within earshot of her, you called out.

“Hitoka Yachi-san, can I speak to you for a moment?” Doe-like eyes widened as she panicked. You stopped short when she suddenly bolted, ducking past a couple and towards the main door. You sprinted after her, frustrated by every impediment that took precious seconds off your chase.

You stumbled out onto the street to see a flash of golden hair as Yachi turned into an alleyway. You raced after her, pulling out your radio as you ran. “Hajime, she’s in the side alley.”

The alley opened out again onto a convergence of lanes, and you halted, trying to figure out in which direction she’d gone. Your head whipped to the left as a shrill scream pierced the air. Fear blended with adrenaline in your blood as you frantically searched the dark streets for Yachi, hoping that you’d make it in time. Glass crunched under your shoes in an ominous soundtrack.

You skidded to a stop when light glinted off something in a corner. You slid your gun out of its holster and approached cautiously. Your breath caught in terror as the sight of a gloved hand in Yachi’s hair greeted you. The killer looked up calmly from where he had been about to slit her throat. You distantly noted the serrated knife and spoke.

“Drop your weapon and move away from her.”

His voice was distorted by the eerie blankness of his wooden mask. “Why should I?” The tip of the blade scratched against Yachi’s throat, drawing a thin line of ruby across her pale neck. She cried out desperately and your hands tightened on the gun.

“Because I’ll shoot you if you don’t.” It was a vow, and he sensed it.

He yanked her head back, eliciting a sob from the terrified girl. The knife dug in a bit deeper. “Drop your gun and I’ll let her go.”

Every instinct screamed at you not to let go, but you did as he said. “Here, catch.”

The masked man flinched back as you tossed the gun into his face and pulled Yachi out of his grip. She scrambled out of the way as you rammed into him, slamming him against a wall and knocking the breath out of him. You realized with new horror that Yachi’s leg dragged against the ground at a disturbing angle.

You didn’t have time to act on your rage as the killer suddenly kicked at your shin. You instinctively moved to throw him over your shoulder, but he moved faster. An explosion of agony radiated through your right side as the knife sank in all the way to the hilt. You choked in pain as he dragged the blade back out slowly, the rough edge scraping against your ribs. Your legs collapsed under the pressure of his boot.

“Foolish Alice. You should not have interfered.” You tried to reach for the gun, but it was too far from your fingers. Your vision blacked as your head was forcefully impacted into the wall. Pain pulsed through your brain as you struggled to stand up, worry for Yachi overwhelming everything else.

“You are next,” announced the masked man. There was no warning as the blade plunged into Yachi’s neck. The girl choked, blood bubbling up over her lips and darkening the fabric of her shirt. The world dropped out from under you, a black hole of immense darkness from which no light ever returned. You braced a hand against the wall and dragged yourself up, the wound in your side forgotten in the untameable claws of fury.

Your foot caught the Alice killer firmly in the ribcage. He gasped for air and stumbled back. You put yourself between him and Yachi, pointing your retrieved gun at his face. He ducked just as you pulled the trigger, fist slamming into your injured side. Excruciating fire burned through your body, tipping you towards unconsciousness. The last thing you heard before everything went dark was Kuroo calling your name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So some things happened, and I'm not sure how I feel about the quality of this chapter. Looking back on it, there's not much plot? Oh well, things should wind up soon.


	7. Who stole the tarts?

It is human nature to forget. Erasing memories is a survival mechanism that allows the body to carry on against all odds, otherwise the pain would be a deadweight around your ankle, slowly but surely pulling you into the miserable depths. And since luck hadn’t been on your side in ages, the first thing you thought about when you woke up was how red Yachi’s blood had been.

Iwaizumi stood up with a clatter when you blinked and shifted. “____, can you hear me?”

You sat up with a wince, shaking your pulsing head to clear memories of torn flesh and terrified brown eyes. “Hajime…where…”

Oikawa approached the side of your bed, face dark and tight with worry. “You’re in the hospital, ___-chan. Do you remember anything? You hit your head pretty hard.”

Too much. That had always been your curse, to remember too much. “Hitoka-san?”

Iwaizumi’s fist clenched and the dread building in the pit of your stomach solidified into certainty. “She didn’t make it.”

You closed your eyes as a tear trailed down your cheek. Oikawa took your hand in a soothing grasp, but it didn’t help. Nothing would change the fact that you had failed and a young, innocent girl was dead. Because of you. The throbbing in your head intensified.

Neither of your friends said anything, merely huddling closer to you in a show of comfort. You sat there in silence before speaking again. “We didn’t catch him, did we?”

Your partner shook his head. “He knows the alleyways better than we do. Bastard got away just as we found you.”

The click of a door made all three of you look up. Iwaizumi snapped to attention in a salute as the superintendent walked in. You just gripped the sheets harder, knowing what was coming.

“How are you holding up, Sergeant?” Ukai’s face was etched with deep disapproval and something like sorrow.

“I haven’t been awake long enough to gauge, but they must have pumped a lot of pain-killers into me, because my ribs don’t hurt yet.” You absently rubbed the stitching over your right side.

Ukai snorted in disbelief. “You’re lucky that sedatives were all they used. Even a 4-inch blade can do a lot of damage in the right place. As it is, you have a lacerated lung and torn muscles.”

You exchanged a glance with Iwaizumi before looking down at your hands. “I suppose you’re taking me off the case?” The question came out quieter than you would have liked.

The chief sighed. “I don’t want to, but one of my best officers nearly died investigating this case. I would take Iwaizumi off it too, but it would take too much time for someone else to catch up. So yes, you’re taking some time off to rest.”

Arguing with Ukai never worked. It made sense to step away from the case, but you would never be able to sleep again if you did. “Can’t- can’t you make an exception this once? The killer is going to be hunting me anyway, and like you said, it would take too long for another detective to pick it up.”

Ukai crossed his arms and fixed you with one of his stern looks. “That’s precisely why you’re going to stay where we can keep an eye on you. I would keep you under protective custody, but we don’t know when the perp will be arrested. Your friends have agreed to make sure you’ll be safe.” Iwaizumi stiffened as a significant glance was thrown his way. “I know how you feel, ___, but no means no.”

You slumped back against the pillows, knowing you had lost the fight. “I’m still going to read the files, you know,” you murmured.

Ukai tried to hide a grin and failed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said in his best impression of a gruff voice. He left after issuing instructions not to move unless absolutely necessary.

You looked at Oikawa when the chief was gone. “How long do I need to recover?”

His jaw tightened. “Well, the knife only grazed your lung, so you can leave the hospital today. But it’ll hurt for a week or so. Do anything too strenuous and the stitches will rip open.”

You nodded and slid your feet off the bed, flinching when they touched the cold floor. “It’s better than the last time, I suppose. I hate hospitals after I spent so much time in one.”

Your friends looked at each other with slight unease. You narrowed your eyes at them, ignoring the increasing pounding of your head. “What don’t I know?”

“___-chan…you’ve been in bed for two days.”

You inhaled sharply in shock and looked at Iwaizumi. He dipped his head grimly in confirmation. Your knees nearly gave out from under you. It was the tenth day. You looked at the clock on the wall and pursed your lips. Correction: it was late afternoon, so the tenth day was almost gone.

Oikawa held a hand out to steady you. You gripped it like a lifeline and breathed in deeply. “Okay. I need to get home before I lose my mind.” You paused as a thought occurred to you. “Was someone else with you when you found me, Hajime?”

Iwaizumi seemed to relax at the innocuous question. “Yeah, that Kuroo guy with the hair. He was with Kageyama and me when we ran out of the club. He was here a while ago, actually.”

A tiny bloom of warmth spread through your chest. As desperate as it was, you would take any ounce of hope you got. “So he’s definitely not the killer.”

Oikawa frowned. “Doesn’t mean he’s a good guy, ____-chan. Though…I guess someone who was so worried for you can’t be all bad either.”

You thought about it all the way back to your apartment. Oikawa waited patiently while you packed a bag with essentials so you could camp out at his house for the time being. You were still thinking about it when you sank onto his couch and Oikawa cleared his throat.

“So, ___-chan, I have to go out somewhere for a bit, but I’ll be back soon. In the meantime, Tobio-chan will be here to keep you company.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You mean to babysit me?” You waved a hand to cut off his protests. “I’ll be fine, Tooru. Don’t let me keep you from your work.”

“Here.” He pressed a keychain and a small bottle into your hand. “That one is an alarm, if you press the button, Iwa-chan, Tobio-chan or I will come running. And the other one is…”

“Pepper spray.” It wouldn’t keep anyone down for long, but you appreciated his thoughtfulness all the same. “Thank you, Tooru. For being there for me.”

Oikawa smiled sadly. “You’d do the same for me, ___-chan.”

After he left, you showered and changed into an oversized t-shirt to lie on the bed and contemplate the ceiling. A stray thought kept tugging at the corners of your mind, crumpling your train of thought like paper every time you came close to a breakthrough. Something about Rule 42, the keys and the knife the killer had used. You were jolted out of your reverie when the doorbell rang.

Kageyama’s face scrunched up when he saw you. “____-san, I…You’re awake.”

You let him in with a faint feeling of guilt. “I should have called you, Kageyama-kun. I’m sorry.”

He walked in stiffly and turned. You realised with a pang that he was struggling to hold back tears. “You-you were bleeding out when we found you, and I didn’t know what to do…”

You hesitantly reached out and touched his hair. Kageyama’s shoulders pulled in towards his ears, head bent miserably. “I’m sorry,” you said quietly, “for worrying you.” He let you pet his head for a while before straightening with his usual look of determination.

“Did anyone tell you what happened afterwards?” He pulled a notepad from his pocket when you shook your head. “We searched Hitoka-san’s house and found this.”

You leaned in to look at the picture on his phone. “A key?” It was gracefully engraved with a distinctive top hat. “She was Bokuto-san’s guest?” Though that didn’t mean anything in particular.

“Yeah, but he’s only seen her once. Now we know she’s been there multiple times, so I did some digging. It turns out she’s a…” You tensed in anticipation when his voice lowered. “Fangirl.”

You sat back and stared at him. “A what?”

Kageyama nodded gravely. “Hitoka-san runs a blog on up and coming volleyball players. Apparently she’s been tailing Bokuto-san for a while now. I found some drafts for a post on him in her files. I guess he was going to be her next feature.”

He pulled up the blog on your laptop. It was full of attractive, sweaty young men wearing shorts, all pictured in interesting angles. It was an illuminating experience. “Well, not that I can’t see the appeal, but this shouldn’t have gotten her killed.” At least, you thought so.

“No, but it does explain why she returned on a regular basis. Maybe she saw or heard something that would have given away the killer’s identity.” You could see the idea building up in his head like bubbles in a fizzy drink, just waiting to explode.

You held up a hand to stall him. “Let me just get a hair tie and I’ll think about this with you.” You went back into Oikawa’s bedroom to hunt for a bobble and paused when you noticed something. In his haste to leave, Oikawa had left several of his beautiful silk ties out on a table. You tilted your head, considering the pearly sheen of a grey necktie. A new thought occurred to you.

“Kageyama-kun, did you drive here?” You poked your head around the door.

He tipped the chair back to look at you. “I did. Why?”

“Because I need to go to the club right now. And you’re taking me.”

* * *

“Are you sure this is a good idea? Iwaizumi-san said-“

“What Hajime doesn’t know won’t hurt him. I won’t be doing anything too energetic, I promise.”

“And you’re sure you left your card here?” You didn’t blame Kageyama for sounding so sceptical. He’d make a brilliant detective one day.

“Yes,” you lied. “I need to talk to someone as well. Don’t worry, there are plenty of people around. I have the keychain with me. I’ll see you later.”

He didn’t look too happy, but left you to take the elevator downstairs. Some instinct had you opening the yellow door again to what you suspected was the Rabbit’s House. Just like the previous times, you were just left mystified by the decor. It was theoretically a drawing room merged with a card parlour that had somehow also mated with a library. The furniture seemed to be molten wood rising out of the ground, strangely curved bookcases and colourful settees arranged around a fireplace where a bouquet of vivid chrysanthemums burned in lieu of a real fire. The most striking feature was, however, an enormous clock on the wall that opened up like a pocket watch. The dial was inscribed with the expected twelve digits, but there was only one hand, which hadn’t moved since your last visit there. 

Kuroo was gazing at the clock when you walked in, his back to the door. His posture was in his usual relaxed stance, hands deep in his pockets, but you could see the strain in the set of his shoulders. “There are fewer people in here than I thought there would be,” you observed.

Everyone in the silent room looked up in surprise. “Detective! You’re alive!” It was almost insulting how amazed Noya sounded.

You could pinpoint the exact second Kuroo realized you were there and he turned around. You could tell because your skin started burning. “I’m bolstered by your faith in me, Noya-san.”

You didn’t miss the glance Sugawara threw at Kuroo. “We’re glad to see you, ___-san.” His smile was sincerely relieved. It was strange to feel such a strong bond with a stranger, but Sugawara was hard to resist.

“Me too-“ You stopped short as Tendou sauntered over and gave you a cool head-to-toe inspection.

“For a moment there I was worried that I wouldn’t have anyone to spar with. It seems like you’re still as snippy as ever, detective.” His grin was pure evil, but you could see the worry in his eyes. It seemed the Red Queen wasn’t as distant he pretended to be.

“Yes, I’ll have to be careful not to tear my stitches holding back my comments around you, Tendou-san.” You looked around the room and settled on the person you’d really come to see. He was watching with that leonine intensity of his, waiting, waiting, like the good hunter he was. “Kuroo-san, is there somewhere we can talk?”

He didn’t blink, as if he’d seen it coming. “That can be arranged. Suga?”

Sugawara turned into a drill sergeant and magically ushered everyone out of the room. You waited till they all left in a flurry of speculative glances and cheery smiles to approach him. Kuroo stayed where he was, patient. You stopped next to him and considered the clock again, trying not to feel frightened by how right it felt to be in his presence. It was as if a bolt had slid home.

“Does it only show the month?” You caught calligraphy set into the edges of the clock and leaned forward to read it. It was a question: _“How long is forever?”_

“Yes,” Kuroo answered without turning to look at it. “Do you know what the answer to that riddle is?”

You worked up the courage to reach out and take his fingers. His amber gaze flicked from your joint hands to your face. “No, I don’t know,” you replied.

Kuroo’s face was unreadable, but he tightened his grip like he would never let go. Your breath caught at the well of emotion behind his eyes: he looked at you like you held his salvation in your hands. His voice dipped achingly low. “Sometimes, just one second. I know, because it felt like time stopped when you came close to dying.”

You didn’t know there was anything left to hurt, but some part of your heart did. “Kuroo-san…”

Kuroo dipped his head until his hair brushed your skin. “How are you feeling?”

You were knee-deep in the quicksand of his allure, and answered absently. “Not too bad. I think the painkillers will last a bit longer.”

His mask of neutrality dropped as he stepped closer. “Good, because I can’t hold back much longer.”

Your breath caught as his arms locked around your waist and he hugged you so tightly your feet lifted off the floor. Kuroo buried his face in your neck and somehow managed to tighten his hold on you. The world suddenly split into two: the vast greyness outside his arms, and the warm, all-consuming affection of his embrace. You weren’t sure how you’d lived so long without this.

“I almost lost you,” he whispered. You slid your hands into his hair, trying to soothe the ragged edges in his voice. “The one person who I wanted more than anything, after such a long time, and I nearly lost you forever.”

“Kuroo-san,” you said as you pressed your lips to his forehead, “I’m here. It’s alright.”

He briefly closed his eyes and exhaled. “It’s not. It was too close and I…Never mind.” Kuroo set you down and examined you critically. “You need rest. Let’s get you to the sofa.”

You shook your head. “I’m fine, I was out for two days straight and you’re here. I don’t want to spend the time sleeping.”

He grinned suddenly, that lazy smile which sent sparks down your spine. “Mmm, detective, I appreciate the sentiment. Under normal circumstances I would be the last person to suggest that you would get any sleep when I’m around.” He traced the curve of your cheekbone with a finger. “But right now, you need to sit down and let me take care of you. You look pale.”

You hesitated. “But I really don’t-“ Kuroo cut you off with a quick press of his lips to your forehead. You touched the spot, bewildered. “What was that for?”

Awareness prickled as his grin grew wider. “Well, that seemed like the quickest way to silence your protests. Did it work?”

You wondered if he would do it again if you resisted. “I hope you don’t think that will work again-“ You silently congratulated yourself when he leaned forward to playfully kiss your nose, amusement radiating off him. If you could bottle up the effervescent feeling of his teasing affection, you would hoard it by the gallon.

“So?” Kuroo clearly knew you were stalling, but was content to play the game a bit longer. “Would you like more persuading?”

You weighed the gains and losses and decided on giving in. “Fine, but we need to talk.”

He nodded and gestured to a chaise longue before striding to a cabinet to retrieve a velvet pouch. You watched as he sat down next to you in a fluid movement and held out a hand in invitation. “Can I hold you while you talk?”

It wasn’t even a question, as far you were concerned. But you could see the answer meant something to him. “I’d rather hold you instead, Kuroo-san.”

His eyes flashed with lightning and he seemed to stop breathing for a moment. You didn’t know what to make of it until he smiled craftily. “Then I get to let down your hair in return.”

Your mouth curved slightly. “You drive a hard bargain, Kuroo-san. I should have known better than to negotiate with a lawyer. It’s a deal.”

“Call me Tetsurou.” He began undoing the weave of your braid, the movements surprisingly deft.

You waited till he had finished sweeping the heavy tresses over your shoulder to slip off your shoes and fold your legs under you. “On my lap, please, Tetsurou.”

Kuroo acquiesced cheerfully, though not without comment. “You have some interesting ideas on how to recover from trauma, ____.”

You barely suppressed a shiver at the sound of your name, trailing your fingers over his scalp to distract yourself. His chest rumbled with a sound of contentment. Intrigued, you did it again to similar effect. “I don’t think either of us is suffering right now, so just let me do as I please.”

“I’m all for letting you have your wicked way with me,” he agreed huskily. He paused for a moment. “You’re the first person who’s wanted to take care of me instead of the other way around,” he added softly.

You were so taken aback, you stopped caressing his hair. Kuroo sighed in disappointment. You bent toward him, eyes wide. “Why wouldn’t someone want to love you like that?”

He reached up to stroke your lip with his thumb. “Trust my Alice to ask the impossible questions,” he murmured. “Do you realize what you just said, ___?”

It had been an unconscious statement, but you were well past denial at this point. Nearly dying had a way of rearranging one’s priorities. “I do. I also noticed you answered a question with another question.”

He exhaled sharply at your abrupt confession, throat flexing with the motion. You looked at him expectantly until he replied. “It’s nothing tragic. I just haven’t had good luck with relationships. Neither of us comes out any happier at the end.”

You traced his face with your eyes, searching for a hint to his reality. Kuroo never looked sad, but it was in there somewhere. It hung around him, shrouding him with enticing mystery. “They get overwhelmed by you,” you guessed. “They become dependent and lose their sense of self.”

His mouth curved with melancholic admiration. “Yes. I’ve never thought of it that way, but that is an accurate description. After the second, the third, the fourth time, I lost hope. It wasn’t worthwhile anymore.”

You gritted your teeth against the inevitable second-hand hurt. Life seemed to single out the good people for punishment. For Kuroo, the club was probably the only way to feel a moment of connection with someone else without inflicting damage. You framed his face with your hands. “I am proud of you, Tetsurou,” you said softly, “for not changing to suit someone else. For staying yourself.”

Kuroo lost his composure fully, amber eyes widening for a second. He covered his eyes with a carelessly flung arm and chuckled in disbelief. “You really are something, detective. That was an attack I never saw coming.”

You poked at his bicep, secretly impressed by the solid muscle. “I aim to be unpredictable. So…” You hesitated as you came to the real question. “What makes me different for you?”

He slowly lowered his arm, eyes shaded. Kuroo sat up, fabric rustling as he moved. Your heart raced like a startled rabbit’s as he turned to look at you. “You didn’t give up either,” he said simply. “After all you’ve seen, you’re still strong. And if you’ll let me, I’ll cherish that. As long as I can.”

You dipped your head to hide the sudden surge of tears. “I’m not that strong.” You hated how your voice wavered. “If I were, Hitoka-san wouldn’t be dead. And,” you added before he could say anything, “I wouldn’t be so scared of the fact that I’m falling in love with you. You’ll ruin me for anyone else, and I won’t recover if something happens.” Not after Kenji, not so soon.

Kuroo let out a surprised laugh. You found yourself pinned against the back of the couch, his face heart-poundingly close to yours. “Sweetheart,” he drawled, the lazy intent back in his eyes, “I’m not selfless enough to wish otherwise. I hope I do ruin you, because you won’t be able to leave.” He leaned over you until he filled your vision and you couldn’t think of anything else. “I’m yours, as long you’ll have me.”

You gazed back at him and felt the certainty lock into your bones. You took a deep breath. “Fine, but don’t complain when I work long hours and carry files around all the time.”

He sat back with a gratified smirk. “Me? Never. I promise to be the soul of charity.” He held up the velvet pouch from earlier with a shake. “As proof of my good intentions, a gift.”

You hugged your knees and watched as he opened the pouch to pull out two delicate strands of silver. Kuroo picked one up and tipped his head in question. “May I?” You nodded.

He fastened the anklets above your feet, his heated touch lingering on the rise of your bones. You touched the tiny charms on either one, a crystal sun and moon. Your breath caught as you realised what it was. “Is this…my tattoo?”

Kuroo had gone back to toying with a lock of your hair, as fascinated as a cat with a ball of string. He hummed in confirmation. “I thought about what you said, about feeling beautiful. I wanted to give you something that wouldn’t get in the way, but was still feminine. Did I manage it?”

“Oh my god,” you breathed, “this is how all the others got sucked in. You’re a dangerous chasm, Kuroo Tetsurou.” You looked up, heart twisting with the weight of emotion. “Thank you. Truly.”

He tried to hide a boyish smile and failed. “If you want to thank me in other ways, I won’t object.”

You tilted your head in a pretence of thought, shifting closer to him. “Like this?” Kuroo tasted like mint when you kissed him, clean and exhilarating. He slid into it with his usual grace, head tipping back as you pressed into him. He took his time with the kiss, responding with languid sweeps of his tongue. His eyes glowed when you pulled back.

“You’re smiling,” Kuroo said in wonder. He touched your face with the reverence reserved for delicate china, looking a little dazed.

You pulled back, embarrassed. “It happens now and then. Don’t be too shocked.”

He returned to smirking. “In the spirit of scientific enquiry, I’m going to see if I can do it again.”

* * *

It didn’t take you too long to find the Rabbit. He was looking particularly resplendent that evening, but chose to hover in the shadows adjacent to the bar, surveying his kingdom, you supposed. You walked up to him and lifted an eyebrow at his shadowy face. He dipped his chin in acknowledgement.

“Are you healing well, detective?” You saw him slip a pocket watch into his coat.

“Fairly well. I was wondering why you hadn’t noticed Hitoka-san’s repeated visits. It seemed like something you would have noticed.”

He went silent for a moment. “I believe I was not here those nights the guest chose to visit,” he said carefully.

You nodded and leaned against a table. “Yes, you don’t turn up on the surveillance. Don’t you think it’s an interesting coincidence?”

He tilted his head away, but you caught the edge of his smile. “Stranger things have been known to happen.”

“I’d like to think so too, but then I had an epiphany of sorts. There’s one person I know who has to show up to work at a set time on the day following Hitoka-san’s visits. Someone who has to be somewhere early in the morning.”

The Rabbit didn’t say anything, but you saw his fist clench. You kept going, because there was no way you were letting this go. “I think it was at the izakaya that I first suspected. That flourishing bow was so distinctive. And then today, I found this.”

You pulled out a grey tie from your pocket. He didn’t move at all, but the tension ratcheted up unbearably high. “When were you going to tell me, Tooru?”

He shook his head. “Not here. My office is this way.” You followed him to a lushly appointed room, where monitors kept track of the activity in the club. Oikawa sighed and removed his top hat, revealing a face haunted by shadows. He didn’t look at you.

“Will you tell him?” His voice had gone back to its normal pitch, but it was weighted by misery.

You crossed your arms. “No, but _you_ will, eventually. I assume you had your reasons, but honestly this investigation would have gone a lot easier if you had come clean earlier. I think I deserve to know what made you do this, and why you hid the truth from me.”

Oikawa nodded slowly. “I can’t argue with you, ___-chan. The reason I started the club is…like everything, it was Iwa-chan. I’ve been watching him for years. Hinting, hoping he’d like me back. But he always found someone else he liked more, something else he threw his heart into. Then there was me, waiting and waiting. One day, I had a conversation with someone and realized that I wasn’t the only one. There’s always someone with a broken heart out there. I thought, why can’t we escape the world for a little bit?”

Your jaw tightened. You understood, but it didn’t make you any less angry. “And the evasion? Why would you keep this from your closest friend?”

He flinched at the accusation. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. When I first realized that the guests were being killed, I was going to tell you as myself. But then you turned up in the bar, and I somehow ended up using the opportunity to show you the club. You were tearing up inside from the broken engagement, and I was hoping one of the others would be able to help you.”

The sense of betrayal and hurt simmered down a bit when he slumped. You couldn’t deny that, in whatever way, Oikawa had helped. You exhaled slowly. “Fine. I’m not forcing the issue. You are not forgiven yet, but I’m not going to punish you for this either. And if you ever keep something from me again, we’re done.”

He looked up at you, eyes shining with hope. “Thank you, ___-chan. I promise it won’t happen again.”

You punched Oikawa in the shoulder when he came back to the door. He yelped in pain, but didn’t complain. “If I had known earlier, I could have at least gotten free drinks,” you muttered.

He laughed reluctantly. “Strange, I remember Sugawara-kun saying the same thing. About how one of the guests – I think it was Ueda-san – being very fond of martinis, to the point where it was becoming a liability to the house.”

You were going to reply when a realization hit you with stunning clarity. You grabbed Oikawa’s arm to make him stop, mind racing with horrifying new possibilities. “What did you say?”

“That Ueda-san likes martinis?” He looked down at you in puzzlement.

You waved it away impatiently. “Before that. Who told you this?”

“Suga-kun did. Why?” Oikawa gripped your wrist. “Is something wrong?”

You didn’t answer, too busy redefining the borders of your mental puzzle. You turned several pieces upside down in your mind, changed the shape of others entirely, and suddenly it all fit together. You looked up at him, eyes wide.

“Tooru, I think I know who the killer is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firstly, many thanks to @LetheSomething for your help when I got stuck. I hope you like the way it turned out.   
> Second, I tried, once again, to keep it short and got carried away. The end result is this fluff(?) chapter that may or may not make up for previously inflicted trauma. RIP, Yachi.
> 
> As always, let me know all your thoughts.


	8. The queen's court

The pain was slowly starting to seep in, spreading out from your injury like grasping coral, hooking into your skin and pulling at your concentration. You pressed your fingers to your side impatiently and tried to numb the sensation. The drugs were probably beginning to wear off, but you couldn’t let it bother you. Not paying attention to current events would get you killed faster.

You tried to move further away from the killer, cursing the limited space. Whatever his other faults, he had trapped you intelligently, you had to give him that. You kept one eye on his ready stance, calculating all possible outcomes frantically. You refused to let him get away, and you wouldn’t die either. There were people counting on you.

“I know I’m going down, but at least I’ll take you with me,” he said, as if he’d read your mind. “I wish it didn’t have to be this way.”

“Me too,” you ground out, barely managing to cover your face a split second before his foot came down on it.

* * *

 

_A short while ago._

You took a deep breath and wrapped your fingers around the door handle. “Are you ready?”

Iwaizumi and Kageyama gave you affirmative nods. You took one more second to brace yourself and strode into the Queen’s Garden. Despite its name, the area was actually a miniature ballroom, and the only room with a hint of the outside world. Ephemeral French windows let cool air wash over a central pavilion-like structure with chairs arranged on it. Around the pavilion, emerald, black and ivory tiles swathed the floor, broken up by the occasional appearance of playing-card arches draped with fairy lights. A gleaming piano stood to one corner. It was a strangely wistful room, and also the one with the least amount of obstacles in your way if someone decided to run.

Every single member of the club was waiting for you in the pavilion when you entered, faces set in varying expressions of boredom and curiosity. Oikawa was hovering in the back, his Rabbit persona locked back in. Kuroo gave you a small smile of encouragement and went back to nodding at something Kenma was saying. You noted the group’s relative positions and waited until they fell silent.

“Good evening. I know it was short notice, but I’d like to go over the details of this case one last time with my partner present, and I appreciate you all taking the time to be here. Hopefully, this is the last time I’ll have to bother you.”

Tsukishima raised an eyebrow. “Not that I wouldn’t be glad if you did, but do you expect to catch a culprit, then?”

You pursed your lips. “I hope that the perpetrator’s identity will be revealed, yes.” You had to be very careful about how you went about this. Despite your certainty in your deductions, the actual evidence incriminating the killer was all circumstantial. One wrong manoeuvre and any hope of a confession would be dust.

Kiyoko tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and spoke up. “We’re listening, detective.”

You inclined your head at her and moved over to the far right of the pavilion, where Kuroo, Kenma and Sugawara were seated. “From the beginning, then. I will lay out a series of facts for you, and you can correct me if I’m wrong. About two months ago, a while after Wonderland became open to the public, the first victim, Sasaki, was found dead. It was viewed as a mysterious but random act of violence until the subsequent murders of Kai Sakura and Yamane Akemi. At this point, the only common factors between victims was the Alice cards, the costume, and their genders.”

Iwaizumi slid into the narration with practised ease. “Then we get two more murders, the twins and Ueda, each time the killer getting more confident. We’re pretty much at a dead end with this guy until the club comes into the picture.”

Noya nodded enthusiastically. “Right, and then the detective wrote down the times we met the guests and realised Kuroo had something to do with it.”

You shifted slightly. “Does he? Shall we look at some pieces of evidence?”

Tendou’s eyes narrowed to unreadable slits as you held up a photo. “Exhibit A: a surveillance photo from Yamane’s apartment.”

Sugawara leaned forward. “Is that the killer?”

Iwaizumi grunted in confirmation. You paced to the centre of the gathering. “Yes, it is. This is from shortly after he leaves the apartment. Now, we know the height of Yamane’s door, so we can hazard a guess at the killer’s as well. In this room, that would automatically eliminate Noya-san, Kozume-san, Shimizu-san and Tsukishima-san. Sugawara-san is also a bit short, and he has an established alibi for two of the murders.”

Bokuto frowned. “Yeah, but it could be any guest, right?”

“I’m coming to that. We have to do this systematically. It is much easier for someone here to commit these crimes than it is for another guest. So, that leaves us with you, Tendou-san, Kuroo-san, Akaashi-san and the Rabbit. In this set, the most suspicious by far are Kuroo-san and the Rabbit. One has been known to interact with every victim, and the other simply refuses to show us his face.”

“I’d rather not believe it was any of us,” said Kenma quietly. He seemed to curl up into himself a little more. “But I’m guessing you don’t agree.”

You gave him a sympathetic look. “But then, of course, the killer made the mistake of attacking openly, during the club’s hours. It was an assault stemming from panic, because we got too close to the truth. All it really did though, was tell us who it couldn’t be. And we established that it couldn’t be either of those two, because the Rabbit was still in the club when I ran out after Hitoka-san, and Kuroo-san was with witnesses.”

“Yes, I remember,” said Akaashi thoughtfully. “The detective passed by the bar at the time.”

“That brings us to Exhibit B: a key we found in Hitoka-san’s apartment. Does anyone remember how I came to the conclusion that a jealous guest might be at the root of this?”

Noya waved his hand frantically. “The keys! You could tell who visited who with the keys.”

“Except,” Iwaizumi growled, “___ never actually came to that conclusion. This guy did.” He threw a sharp glance in Kenma’s direction. “Think about it. Even if Kuroo talked to all the guests, they would have different keys, wouldn’t they?”

That made Bokuto’s eyes go owlishly wide. “Hey, hey, are you really saying-“

“I would be highly suspicious of Kozume-san for that,” you cut in, “except I know where he was during some of the murders. And he’s got no real motive.” Kuroo’s face was terrifyingly neutral.

Sugawara’s complexion was pale. “So it’s not a guest.” Tension coiled around the room in thick, suffocating ropes as everyone came to the same conclusion.

“No,” you murmured. “And if we look at the remaining suspects, that leaves us with Bokuto-san and Tendou-san.” You turned to Tendou, feeling horrible for what you were about to do. So many hearts would be broken tonight. “Tell me, Tendou-san, where were you that night Kai Sakura visited?”

He tilted his head, lips pressed in a flat line. “I…was visiting someone.”

“Who?” Iwaizumi folded his arms. “A friend?” Kageyama watched intently from his post near the door, eyes bright.

Tendou glared back at Iwaizumi for a long moment and then let out a breath. “My daughter. It was my weekend with her.”  

The group murmured in surprise, apparently not having known what Tendou’s life was like. You nodded. “Yes, and interestingly enough this happens to be the day that Hitoka-san visits the club. So you couldn’t have seen her, and by extension, killed her. Then that leaves…”

Bokuto’s face was set in hard lines when you pinned your gaze to him. “…you, Bokuto-san.”

Akaashi gripped the chair so hard his knuckles turned white. “But he wouldn’t-“

You prowled towards them, intent on breaking him. “No? How can you be sure? He was there with most of the guests, wasn’t he? I’m sure you all remember.”

Iwaizumi started ticking off a list. “They all modelled for Kai Sakura, so he was there. Tendou told ___ about the twins. Kuroo remembers seeing him with Sasaki.”

Bokuto turned grimmer by the second, jaw clenched tight, as if to hold himself back from saying something foolish. Akaashi looked devastated, but he didn’t give up. “He can’t have, he wasn’t there…”

You started hammering the final nails in the coffin. “Wasn’t he? Shimizu-san, you were with Yamane Akemi, yes?” She nodded in confirmation. “Someone complimented her voice. Who was it?”

“That…” Kiyoko gasped and clapped a hand to her mouth. Her eyes sparkled with tears. “Bokuto-san.”

“And,” you continued coldly, relentless, “who remembers Ueda Yukiko? Who was the one that challenged her to a drinking game?”

Noya looked his whole world had been ruthlessly sledgehammered into fragments. “Bokuto,” he whispered. You saw the exact moment Kuroo’s heart broke, and yours broke with it. You’d have to take whatever punishment came your way for this later.

Akaashi shook his head vehemently. “It’s not true. I don’t know why its stacked against him, but Bokuto-san didn’t do it.”

You moved closer, until you were almost eye-to-eye with Bokuto. “Then why,” you asked, “did Hitoka-san have your key, Mad Hatter?”

He took in a deep breath. “I know you don’t have a reason to believe me,” he said quietly, “but I didn’t do it.”

Your eyes narrowed. “Don’t waste my time, Bokuto-san. We found your DNA under Ueda’s fingernails. It would be best if you confessed now.”

Akaashi stood up so suddenly, the chair clattered, making Kenma flinch. “But that’s impossible,” he bit out, “her hands weren’t anywhere near the body-“ He stopped short as he realized what he’d said.

You stepped back from Bokuto slowly. “Yes, that’s right. But how did _you_ know that, Akaashi-san?”

Iwaizumi shifted closer. “Yeah, how did you know? Full details were never released to the press, and the case details were never mentioned during interrogation.”

Akaashi stood perfectly still, face locked into dangerous impassiveness. Bokuto looked like he was suffering from whiplash.

“It can’t be…” Sugawara breathed in horror.

You smiled bitterly. “It very much can. There is one person who was very well equipped to commit these murders. Someone who could see every guest the Rabbit recruited, because he was the bartender. Someone who had access to tetrodotoxin, because his day job as a chef is in a large hotel that is authorised to serve pufferfish delicacies. Someone who talked to Hitoka-san and knew she was following Bokuto-san. Someone who hated these guests with a passion.”

Everyone had been stunned into silence. Akaashi just kept watching you with burning eyes. You held his gaze, unyielding. Bokuto staggered upright and clamped a hand on Akaashi’s shoulder. “Tell me it’s not true,” he begged brokenly.

Akaashi stayed silent, flinching slightly from Bokuto’s grip. You cut the last thread of hope they had. “Someone made a chance comment, you see, about how much a guest liked martinis. And I was wondering…how did Sugawara-san know what Ueda liked to drink if they were entertaining her here? The logical answer is: because he saw her drink it. That means someone was bringing the alcohol downstairs. Which leaves only one conclusion.”

“Why?” Bokuto’s voice was hoarse with grief. “Why would you do something like this?”

Akaashi’s eyes flickered to him, and you saw something splinter in his otherwise dispassionate expression. It quickly disappeared under a mask of calculation. “This is all conjecture, detective. Do you have proof?”

This was where you had to tread carefully. “We have a witness who, I believe, will be more than happy to pick you out of a line-up.”

Your spine stiffened when he subtly shifted his stance. “Witnesses can be unreliable.”

“Maybe,” you agreed, “but if I’m wrong and you’re innocent, that leaves us with only one outcome.”

You regarded him steadily as Akaashi processed the threat in your voice. You tried to tamp down the desperate rhythm of your heart and hoped against hope that your gamble would work. You were banking on the strength of his feelings.

Finally, he looked away in resignation. You almost collapsed in relief when he spoke. “I’ll confess. To all of them.”

Bokuto stumbled back, despair written into every line of his face. Kuroo steadied him, murmuring reassurance.

Iwaizumi was as gruff as ever, but you could see the tension drain from his shoulders. Akaashi didn’t resist when your partner locked handcuffs around his wrists. Every cell in your body seemed to unravel in a reprieve while Iwaizumi read him his rights. The long nightmare was finally over. Your throat tightened with the effort of holding back tears.

A soft cough broke into your thoughts. Oikawa stood at your elbow, face still shaded. “You and Iwa-chan should go now,” he said quietly. “I have to attend to the others.”

You looked over at where Kuroo stood next to a hunched Bokuto. “Tell him I’m sorry,” you said. “I truly am.”

He grasped your hand briefly and left to speak to Sugawara. You looked at Bokuto one last time, and met Kuroo’s gaze. He looked utterly sad, shattered, and you left because you couldn’t bear to watch them anymore.

* * *

 

 _Now_.

You were so deep in the misery of the havoc you had wreaked upon the club that you only barely heard the elevator ping as the doors opened. Kageyama stepped out and scanned the area. Iwaizumi looked over his shoulder at Akaashi, who hadn’t said a word the whole time. “Come on.”

You kept your gaze on his back as the bartender took a step forward. His head snapped up suddenly. “No.”

Perhaps you should have been suspicious earlier when things when so smoothly. Either way, you were startled into stillness when Akaashi’s foot snapped into Iwaizumi’s knee. Before you could blink, he punched the control panel and the elevator began moving back up. You hooked an arm around his neck just as the doors closed, narrowly missing Kageyama’s outstretched fingers.

Akaashi growled and stumbled back to forcefully slam you into the wall, metal reverberating with the impact. It knocked the breath out of you, but you held firm, the headlock inevitably cutting off his supply of oxygen. He changed tactic and rammed his elbow sharply into your right side, hitting the still-healing gash with almost enviable precision.

Like a clap of lightning, a spasm of pain sparked up your side and you instinctively loosened your grip. Akaashi wrenched free and jabbed at a red button. The elevator ground to a halt, and you realised with dismay that it was only halfway down to the other floor. Which meant you were trapped in here with him.

That spilt second of non-reaction cost you. Akaashi’s knee found your abdomen with a crack, and you doubled over as the air was forcibly punched out of you. In another fluid movement, he had the cold metal of the hand cuffs wrapped around your throat, cinching tight with a pull backwards. “You were never meant to get hurt,” he said breathlessly. “But now I have no choice.”

Your feet scrabbled uselessly against the floor as you tried to find purchase. Black spots dotted your vision while your windpipe steadily folded under the pressure. You clawed at his hands, but he was unnaturally strong in the way only truly desperate people could be. You let your hands fall limp. “Pity,” you gasped, “I could say the same thing.”

Akaashi reeled back with a vicious curse under the onslaught of a full bottle of pepper spray. You pulled free and fell to your knees, barely finding enough breath to punch a button to make the elevator move again. It slowly creaked to life, and began drifting upwards. You hauled yourself up, a wet stain blossoming over your shirt, to find Akaashi tipped beyond endurance.

He looked up with bloodshot eyes, face still eerily calm with intent. “You make this more difficult than it has to be.”

His hand shot out and yanked your foot out from under you. Your skull hit the floor with a dull thunk, disorienting every rational thought. You thought you heard distant shouting, but you couldn’t be sure. Akaashi kept pulling, inexorable as a grim reaper, until you were dragged partway across the floor. You tried to pull away, but there was nowhere to go.

“I know I’m going down, but at least I’ll take you with me,” he said. “I wish it didn’t have to be this way.”

“Me too.” You threw your hands up just in time for the full weight of his heel to come down on your palms. You faintly felt a fissure open in the delicate bones of your hand, but like everything else, it was overridden by the insurmountable adrenaline. Both of you stilled as someone pounded on the doors.

They slid open with a cheerfully ironic ring to reveal a frenzied Kuroo, fist raised mid-motion. The moment his eyes landed on Akaashi, he reached out with a snarl and pulled him forward by the collar, flinging the other man outside. You let your hands go slack, faintly registering Iwaizumi’s furious growl. Kuroo skidded to a breathless stop next to you and dropped to the ground.

“___, say something. Are you alright?” You lifted your head gingerly as he frantically ran his hands over you, looking for injuries. “Fuck, you’re bleeding. Someone get an ambulance!” You flinched when his roar made your head ring.

“Kuroo, I’m alive- just-“ You hissed in pain as you tried to sit up. “Don’t yell, it makes me dizzy.”

He ignored you, the infuriating man. “I’m going to lift you now.” Somehow you found yourself cradled in his arms, but you didn’t have the wherewithal to object. You dropped your head against his chest and tried to slow your laboured breathing. Why did everything hurt so much?

He looked down at you, fear leaching the colour out of his skin. “____, you can’t fall asleep. Don’t. You can’t do that to me.” The desperate note in his voice had you struggling to keep from going under, but the darkness was creeping in. Somewhere in your viscous awareness, you could hear Iwaizumi’s and Kageyama’s panicked voices.

“Tetsurou, I…Sorry, I can’t…” Your eyes drifted shut as the adrenaline drained away and left you exhausted.

The last thing you heard was him yelling at you to stay awake, but it was too late then.

* * *

 

_Two weeks later._

Unlike those tragically beautiful overhead shots in the movies, where funerals were populated by a sea of black umbrellas and pouring rain, on the day you visited Yachi’s grave, the sun was shining brightly. Footsteps crunched on the grass when you finished laying a bunch of flowers on the stone. Yachi Madoka’s slim form filled your vision as you turned.

“Detective.” She seemed to be barely holding herself together, fragile as crystal. “It is kind of you to visit.”

You bowed deeply, trying to convey your remorse in the only way you could. “I cannot apologize enough, Yachi-san. There aren’t words to tell you how deeply ashamed I am of my failure.”

She shook her head, moisture glistening on her lashes. “I know you tried. It’s just- I want so much to hate someone for this, the unfairness of it all, but there is no one. There’s just me, alone, without my daughter.”

You swallowed your own sorrow and straightened to face her. “I understand. Hitoka-san…she was a beautiful person. Like you.”

Madoka smiled through her tears. “She was, wasn’t she?”

* * *

 

_Three days later._

Kuroo was just so done with the day when the doorbell rang. He sighed, ruffled his already dishevelled hair, and padded over barefoot to see who it was. He felt significantly better when he opened the door and your eyes widened like you’d discovered a new religion. “K-Kuroo-san?”

“Tetsurou,” he scolded, letting you into the apartment. You toed off your shoes and looked around his house in quiet curiosity. He belatedly realized there were piles of papers everywhere, a jacket flung haphazardly on the couch, and a mug of some caffeinated liquid from god knows when. He rubbed his neck in frustration. “So it might be a bit untidy. Sorry about that.”

You smiled slightly and set down a bag of groceries before unwinding your scarf. “It isn’t too bad, all things considered. I’ve seen worse.”

Before he could decide how he felt about that statement, you glanced at his face again, cheeks colouring. Kuroo abandoned the uncertainty for intrigue and leaned against the wall with a grin. “Care to tell me what’s going through that devious mind of yours? You’re such a charming shade of pink.” He wanted to kiss it off your skin and see if it tasted as sweet as it looked.

“Devious?” You muttered something about the pot calling the kettle black. You looked up at him through your lashes and then away. “You look good in glasses. Really good.”

“Ohoho?” Kuroo folded his arms to resist the urge to tackle you. He leaned forward, eyes lidded, trademark smirk in place. “Are you saying all I have to do to make you succumb is look studious? And here I was thinking I’d at least have to take my shirt off.”

You eyed his well-worn t-shirt with interest.  “Don’t stop on my account, please.”

He watched, still intrigued, when you shrugged off your coat and just stood there, looking lost. “What’s wrong?”

You looked at him, then at your hands, then sighed. Kuroo was on the verge of laughing from bewilderment at your expression. You finally decided to speak. “I’m wondering how to ask you for a hug, but I really can’t think of a subtle way and it’s frustrating me.”

His heart melted right about then. You looked so tired and alone, and he knew he should have been worrying about you more, but all he could really focus on was the fact that you’d come to him first. Kuroo held his arms out with a grin that hid how jumbled he was feeling. “You don’t need to ask. Come here.”

You moved into his embrace without hesitation, arms wrapped tight around his waist. He felt the sound of relief you made vibrate through his chest. Kuroo caressed the curve of your spine, breathing in the rightness of your fit against him. “Long day?” he murmured.

There was a moment of silence as you nuzzled further into him, like you wanted to crawl into him and take shelter there. “I testified at Akaashi-san’s trial today.” Your voice was barely audible. “I kept wishing I didn’t have to.”

Kuroo tightened his arms around you, face set in grim lines. He’d been as shocked as anyone when Akaashi confessed, and probably only Bokuto had beat him in hoping that it wasn’t true, but...He couldn’t help but remember the bruises on your throat, stark purple on your skin. “He nearly killed you twice. I don’t think I can ever forgive him. I’d testify against him if I could.”

You tilted your head back to look at his face. “Yes, when I remember what’s he done, I think he deserves it, but- I liked him, you know? I never wanted it to happen to him or Bokuto-san.”

Kuroo didn’t think Bokuto would ever be the same again. Akaashi had broken them all in some irreparable way, but his friend took the brunt of that betrayal. It wasn’t something so easily forgotten. “There’s a great many things I’d do over if I got the chance. But,” his lips quirked up, “I wouldn’t change anything about meeting you.”

You looked at him for a long moment before smiling suddenly. Kuroo’s eyes glowed in response. “I suppose I wouldn’t either,” you carried on, oblivious to the fact that he was still caught in the spell of that smile and not really processing anything. “Shall we cook dinner now? I’m pretty hungry.”

He blinked once. “Ah. Yes. This way.” He picked up the paper bag and led the way to his kitchen. You rolled up your sleeves and set to work, dividing the work up between the two of you. He settled into the reassuring domesticity of it, cheerfully telling you about his day while secretly thinking about how to keep you with him, possibly forever.

You solved the problem when dinner was almost finished, setting down your chopsticks to consider him. He inclined his head in question. “Can I stay? For the night, I mean.”

Kuroo almost laughed in astonishment when you looked at him a little anxiously. As if you were afraid he’d refuse. In what universe was that a possibility? He sat back with a sly smile. “That depends. Are you prepared for the consequences?” He let his gaze linger on your mouth.

That elicited a reluctant smile from you. “Is that a promise, Tetsurou?” You purred his name, and his blood went from still to boiling in a matter of moments. The hunter in him couldn’t resist toying back.

“Hmm. If you want it to be.” His mouth curved up in wicked confidence. “And I think you do.”

Your eyes became dark, slumberous. He waited, still amused by the game, content to tease some more. “Such arrogance,” you mused. “I hope it’s justified.”

“Why don’t you find out?” The predator flexed its claws, waiting to leap. He tipped his head back slightly with a smirk. “Or are you going to back down from a challenge?”

You stood up to clear the dishes and shook your head. “That won’t work on me. I’m not a hot-headed male, after all. Try harder.”

This time, he did laugh, unable to resist. “You win. Here, I’ll take that.” He neatly swiped the plates from your hands. “I filled the bath earlier. It should be cool enough now, go ahead.”

You looked at him speculatively. “And what about you?”

Kuroo had to abruptly suppress a number of fantasies involving slick skin and soap bubbles. He forcibly stamped out images of you pressed up against wet tiles before replying. “I’ll take a shower after you’re done.” He’d probably need a really cold one at this rate.

“Hmm. Okay.” You sauntered off, and he tried not to think any more incendiary thoughts while he cleaned up. By the time he’d finished showering, he felt almost human again. That feeling died a brief but glorious death when he walked into the bedroom and found you perched on his bed, dressed in one of his old t-shirts, hair still slightly damp from the bath. You looked up from the book you were perusing just as his brain gave up control to some primeval deity.

“This is pretty interesting. I didn’t realize you liked forensic science so much. You should meet Semi one day.” You looked down at yourself when he raised an eyebrow. Words were well beyond him at the moment. “Ah, sorry. I came by on an impulse, so I didn’t really have anything to wear. Do you mind?”

A great deal, because his survival rate was clearly heading for the endangered category. He tried to remind himself you were still healing from your injuries. “That’s not how I’d put it, but let’s just say this has a certain appeal.”

You brightened when he stretched out on the bed. Kuroo patted the space next to him in clear invitation. You hummed in contentment as you slid in next to him, twining your legs around his in comfortable intimacy. His eyes drifted shut and he traced lazy patterns over your back, soaking in the warmth of your presence.

“I went to the hospital yesterday,” you said, grazing a palm over his stomach. “They said my ribs are almost fully healed, and everything else is back to normal.”

Kuroo’s eyes opened, interest sparking in their golden depths. “Really?” He began revaluating his earlier chivalry. “Does that mean you can return to work now?”

You scrunched your nose. “Ukai still has me on suspension for disobeying him, so not until a few more days. But other than that…” You trailed off, leaving possibilities open.

He closed his eyes with a smile, considering. “That’s good news, then.” It meant that Kuroo could now play the game in earnest.

There was a moment of silence. Then the sheets rustled as you sat up. “Okay, I’ve had enough.”

Kuroo’s eyes flew open again at the sound of a metallic clink and a cold sensation. He craned his neck to find his right wrist firmly handcuffed to the bed. “____? Is there something you haven’t told me?”

You huffed in frustration, moving to straddle him. “I’ve done everything I could. You wouldn’t join me in the bath. I clearly lied about not having spare clothes, but that didn’t have an impact either. I even told you the hospital cleared me for rigorous activity. What more does a girl have to do get you to sleep with her?”

His heartbeat had returned to that strange waltz rhythm again, skipping dangerously. Kuroo grinned and folded his free arm behind his head. “Maybe I just like being on the receiving end of your seduction.” He wanted to see how far you would go if you were provoked.

You narrowed your eyes at him, displeased. “Fine, if that’s how you want to play it. I was planning to unlock the cuffs if you just agreed, but now it’s going to stay there for a bit.”

He couldn’t resist poking at you once more. “Sweetheart, I’m not the least unhappy at being held captive. Do go on.” He slid his hand up your hip in encouragement, scrunching thin fabric in the process.

Your lips curved at the endearment, but then you caught yourself and went back to looking stern. You shifted to settle your hips more firmly over his, bracing yourself on your arms to bend down and brush your lips over the pulse beating in his neck. Kuroo’s head fell back on a soft exhale, heat spreading in starbursts from the points of contact. You carried on in a leisurely fashion, sliding a hand up his unbound wrist to lace your fingers with his.   

“Tetsurou,” you murmured against his jaw, “you smell so good. I could just drown in you.”

Kuroo came to the slow realization that he was being systematically seduced as a form of punishment. If you said his name that longingly one more time, the handcuffs wouldn’t be able to hold him back. He dragged his burning gaze over you, assessing. “I’d rather it was the other way around.” His voice was deliberately pitched low, the words velvety with promise.

His smile was smug when you shuddered in response. It lasted for all of twenty seconds before you decided to unravel him in earnest. A choked sound left his throat as you ground down on him, alerting him to the fact he was already painfully hard. He ached to rip his hands free and strip you of those flimsy barriers of clothing, but in the interests of maximizing the benefits, he stayed still.

Oblivious to the all the groundwork he was laying out, you bent to kiss him, your movements more frantic and less calculated now. Kuroo laved your mouth with his tongue, drinking in the taste of you. Lost in the kiss, you sank your hands into his hair, tugging gently. This left him free to start putting his plans into action. He unhurriedly skimmed his palm over your knee and upwards, pausing to rub circles into the inside of your thigh.

You didn’t notice him slip his hand under the t-shirt, fingers spanning the curve of your hip. Your own hands were busy tracing the dips and crests of his taut pectorals, grazing torturously lightly over his abdomen. You paused to admire the combination of dusky skin and lean muscle, still unaware that you were arching into his caress. “I will never understand how I got so lucky,” you said with a touch of reverence.

Kuroo smirked at the irony. If only you could see yourself, flushed and panting, hair draped across your shoulders like a wild goddess fallen to earth. Lucky didn’t begin to cover it. His hand stealthily found your ribs, briefly tracing the scar. “I think you underestimate your own appeal, ____. Shall I show you?”

You had no time to object when he suddenly shaped the swell of your breast, thumb circling languorously around the tip. You rocked against him, desperately seeking friction to match the lightning sparking from his touch. He bit back on a groan at the feeling of your soft heat pressed into his own arousal and decided patience was overrated. “Unlock me,” Kuroo ordered hoarsely. “I need to touch you.”

Eyes glazed over with desire and the beginnings of an unfulfilled ache, you wasted no time fishing the key out from under the pillow. You kissed his reddened wrist in apology when he was freed. “I shouldn’t have kept you locked for so long.”

Kuroo had barely felt it then, and he didn’t have any time to think about it now, more concerned with the fact that you were still wearing clothes. He tugged at the grey fabric, indicating you should take it off. “Considering that I’m hoping you’ll tie me down for eternity, I’m not worried about it.”

You flicked his forehead in mock reprimand and finally, finally pulled his t-shirt off. Kuroo’s mouth went dry as a whole expanse of smooth skin was revealed, begging him to brand it with his possession. You pushed impatiently at his own crumpled top. “Your turn, Cheshire.”

He was too busy celebrating the fact that you weren’t wearing much in the way of lingerie underneath. “In a moment,” he murmured distractedly. “Ladies first, as they say.”

Your huff of amusement quickly dissolved into a helpless moan at the first flick of Kuroo’s tongue over the peak of your breast. He lapped at the tip with feline thoroughness, the rough scrape of his tongue sending exquisite fire racing down your spine. His roaming hands learned the landscape of your body while he sipped at your skin: the declivity of your spine, the arch of a collarbone, the valley in your throat. You watched him helplessly when he drew back and toyed with the edge of the lace on your hipbone.

His chest rumbled with an anticipatory sound. “Let’s get this off, hmm?” He rolled over and bracketed you on the bed with no little gratification.

You clamped your legs around him to stop him from moving. “Shirt. Off.”

Kuroo surrendered with a heart-stopping grin and flung his t-shirt over his shoulder. “So demanding,” he teased.

You kissed the rise of his chest, over the steady thump of his heartbeat. “You know you like it.”

He chuckled, tracing a path down your stomach before pressing the heel of his palm into your clothed sex. You arched off the bed with a gasp, mind blanking into pleasurable whiteness. “Not as much as you enjoy this, I suspect,” he mused.

You shot him a glare when he didn’t attempt to continue anything.  His amusement only grew at your frustration. “Tetsurou, I swear, if you don’t do something soon, I’ll haul you to gaol.”

Kuroo was positively delighted at the idea. “Oh? On what grounds?” He pulled the scrap of fabric down your legs and taunted you with the possibility of relief. “Name the exact section of the penal code and I’ll do whatever you want.”

You bit your lip as he began stroking your clit. “Mmh- probably- harder, please, don’t stop- argh, fine! Article 116, you demon!”

His eyes glinted with mischief. “Hmm? The one for fire caused through negligence?” He barely kept himself from growling when he curled a finger into your slick folds.

Your hands fisted in the sheets, your head thrown back at the unbearably perfect feeling of his calloused digit sinking deep into you. “Yes- ohhh, yes – because I’m going to spontaneously combust from your teasing, damn it!”

He laughed, he couldn’t help it. Kuroo dipped his head until his inky strands brushed your stomach. “I thought you’d say obstruction of justice or something, but that was far more interesting. You win. Now…what should I should do?” He sank another finger into your wet heat.

You were torn between wanting to kill him and wanting more of him everywhere. He seemed determined to wring an answer out of you. “Just touch me,” you said breathlessly, “please.”

Kuroo complied to the plea with more enthusiasm than you’d expected. You had to clap a hand to your mouth to keep from crying out at the first drag of his tongue over your core. Arousal stretched tight in your spine as he licked deep, stretching you wider with his fingers at the same time. You clutched at his hair, clockwork tension winding up to what promised to be a shattering climax. Just when you thought you’d tip over the edge, he lifted his head.

“Tetsurou…” The desire-rough entreaty had him grinding against the bed for relief. “Kiss me.”

He wordlessly acquiesced, slicking your lips with the evidence of your arousal. Needing him to lose control a little bit, you reached into the waistband of his sweats. Kuroo made a harsh noise of surprise as your fingers wrapped around his length. He pulled back with a pant, the sinews in his shoulders stretched tight. “You really…shouldn’t. I’m barely holding on.”

You dragged your grip up the satin-on-steel feel of his erection unrepentantly. He exhaled raggedly, jerking his hips into your touch. Kuroo shot you a dark look to which you smiled in response. You loosened the ties on his pyjamas so they slid off his lithe frame. He paused to roll on protection. “I don’t really want you to…hold back.”

Around then, any hope of chivalry and gentleness was thrown overboard. Kuroo suddenly lifted your legs and hitched them higher over his waist, bringing you flush against his hardness. You let out a startled gasp and gripped his forearms. He gave you a dangerous smile of pure male satisfaction. “As my lady wishes.”

Kuroo claimed your mouth in a bruising kiss and slammed into you with enough force to make the headboard rattle. Every nerve ending in your body was set gloriously ablaze with each thrust, as he somehow sank deeper in you. He pinned your wrists together with a growl. “Damn, you’re so- tight. Like you were made for me.”

You barely registered anything he said, so close to that invisible edge. You pressed your heels into his back and arched into him. “Harder,” you breathed. “More.”

Kuroo was barely hanging on to the last vestiges of his sanity, but he somehow managed to raise one of your legs over his shoulder and pick up speed. You cried out as the change in angle hit a sensitive spot deep in you and the full force of your pent-up climax crashed into you. You came apart around him with potent stardust glittering through your veins and galaxies blooming to life behind your eyelids.

Kuroo’s laboured breathing hitched as your sheath clasped around him, the velvety heat nearly unbearable. You took in his near-desperate face with half lidded eyes, still feeling drugged. His gaze flickered to yours when you took his face in your hands. “I love you, Tetsurou.” You pressed a kiss to his parted lips.

That pushed Kuroo into an explosive completion, his body pulling taut with strain. A choked exhale escaped from his throat as he hit his peak and that long simmering forest fire razed everything to the ground. He collapsed onto you with a soft thump, breathing hard. You ran your hands through his hair, soothing. He rolled over with you on top of him, languidly trailing his hand down your sweat-slicked skin.

“Well, that was…unexpected.” He sounded amused, but you caught a note of uncertainty in his voice.

You raised your head an inch from his chest to look at him. “What’s wrong?” Irrational dread bubbled up in your stomach, along with memories of how your last relationship had gone. “Are you…regretting it?”

Kuroo’s eyes widened. He cupped your cheek, trying to smooth the anxiety out of your expression. “No, of course not. I’ve been waiting for this, for us. I won’t let you go. I was just wondering whether you meant what you said.”

You stared at him in incomprehension before catching on. “Oh. Are you asking me if I really love you?”

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I suppose I am.” His amber eyes glowed with something like hope. “Do you? I know that you’re the one for me. The only one.”

Your heart swelled impossibly, close to bursting at the seams. You twined your fingers with his. “Kuroo Tetsurou, I love you so much it scares me. There’s nothing sensible or rational about it, but you’re stuck with me now. So long as it’s not illegal, I’d do anything to make you happy. Does that answer your question?”

Kuroo grinned, barely able to contain the happiness. “I love how everything comes with a clause. Yes, I’m happy to be your indentured servant for the foreseeable future.”

“Good,” you replied. You leaned forward to brush a kiss onto his cheek. “Because I have more handcuffs where those came from.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annnnnddd it's finally, finally done! This was almost a torturous experience I never want to repeat, but who am I kidding, I'll probably end up writing again soon. I'm so terrified by my inability to control myself. This chapter is almost 7k words. What even.
> 
> To those who stuck around from the beginning, I hope that was a satisfying conclusion. You guys have been just wonderful and encouraging, and I am blessed by your presence.   
> As always, tell me all your thoughts. Whether you think it ended ridiculously or whether I should never even attempt to approach smut again, I want to know everything. Leave any questions you have as well!


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